Royal Flush
by SpyKid18
Summary: Gangster Chuck Bass always gets what he wants. This time he has set his sights on politician daughter Blair Waldorf who wants nothing to do with him. When he invites her to join him at his hotel in Las Vegas, will she take the gamble? C/B
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: New story! I am so excited to share this with all of you. I thought up the idea probably a month ago and finally got around to writing it. I hope you all enjoy it!**

Promises, Promises

The first time he saw her he was sitting in some restaurant when in she walked, her chestnut hair curled demurely around her heartshaped face. He thought she was beautiful but hell, with looks like hers he didn't imagine that anyone looked at her and didn't. She had classic looks that reeked of patrician upbringing. Almost immediately, he knew that he wanted her.

"Who's that?" he asked his friend beside him. Nate Archibald followed his penetrating gaze and said, "Someone you should stay away from."

"And why is that?"

"A politician's daughter."

"Ah," Chuck breathed out, leaning back in his seat. "Which politician?"

Chuck was a well-known man and despite his bootlegging and gambling he had several politicians safely in his well-greased pockets. Nate did not hesitate before answering, "Harold Waldorf."

Chuck frowned. Harold Waldorf was one man who was not a friend of the mob and it was his refusal to comply with mob dealings that lost him the previous year's election for governor. What Harold did not understand is that a successful politician openly attacked mob activity while secretly enabling it. That was how the things were done.

Harold instead chose to be a hard nose about it all and in the end it had cost him his career. The man was still doing well for himself, though. His law firm was thriving and by the look of his daughter money was not an issue. Her clothes were in season and he could tell they were tailor made. No off-the-rack pencil skirt would hug her curves the way the one she wore did.

"It's a shame," Chuck remarked. "Such a waste of beauty."

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

She recognized him from the papers.

Chuck Bass.

Her father had told her all about him and how the law had been unable to pin any particular crime or deed on him. "He'll get what's coming to him," Harold vowed. "One day it will all come crashing in."

Her father's apocalyptic attitude was something she was used to. It bled its way into every facet of their life. Every single act of every single day was of utmost importance. Whether it be choosing the menu for a dinner party or picking out a tie-nothing was too menial for Harold Waldorf's full attention. That included his daughter.

"You are going to really become something," he told her one morning. "I will introduce you to all the best so you can go and forge a bright future for yourself."

The unspoken fineprint was that this bright future would be one that Harold had prior approval of. He would arrange the dates and the meetings. He would approve all and she would live out the life that he had so meticulously planned for her. Some would find it freeing, the absolute ease in which she should have conducted her life with it all being planned out. She didn't have to think. All she had to do was walk in the direction her father pointed and smile.

She felt smothered, though. Only nineteen she still held no answer as to what she wanted to do for herself but she believed it should be her decision and not something her father concocted. Oftentimes she wondered if things would have turned out differently if her mother were still alive. Would a woman's presence softened her father's ambition? She had no real way of knowing.

She sat down at the table with her escort and felt her eyes slide to _him_ again. She had always found him attractive his face all angles and shadows. He was a bad boy or as her father would correct, a bad man. That didn't bother her, though. Nor did it appeal to her. What fascinated her about him was the autonomous air that he carried wherever he went. She saw there was no man guiding his actions beyond himself. She wondered what that felt like. Full control.

A waiter approached and put a mixed drink on her table. She hadn't ordered anything and looked at him strangely as he explained, "That is from Mr. Bass." She looked up quickly and found her eyes locking with those of Chuck Bass. He lowered his head slightly and smirked.

"Tell him I do not want it," she said coolly. "I won't take drinks from men of his standing."

"Yes, miss," the waiter said, quickly plucking the drink from her table and walking away.

"What gall," her friend Penelope said. "He must know who your father is."

"Oh, yes, he does," Blair said, eyeing the man warily. "That is exactly why he sent me the drink."

Penelope gave another succinct turn of her head to either side. "No manners, I tell you, absolutely no manners."

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Blair had returned from lunch out at the club and had spent most of the day rearranging things in her room and going through her closet. It seemed every season she accumulated more clothes rendered useless. Style changed drastically and something from the year before simply would not do in the next. There was a knock on her door which she knew immediately was her father. He always did three succinct knocks with a breath of pause between.

"Come in," she called out.

"Blair Bear," he said affectionately, entering the room. "You look beautiful."

Blair looked down at her common clothes and said, "I'm hardly dressed."

"But you are always beautiful to me, dear."

She knew something was up. Harold was a kind man but this overstated affection meant one thing only. There was someone else downstairs he wanted to ensure she was beautiful for.

"There is someone I would like you to meet," he said after a moment. She exhaled sharply and set on her best society smile. There was no use fighting Harold because he would always win.

"I'll be right down," she told him, glancing at herself in the mirror.

"Don't take too long, now. You look beautiful just as you are."

She nodded and he exited the room, closing the door softly behind him. She gazed in the mirror at her reflection and sighed. She wondered who was waiting downstairs, yet another man her father paraded her before. She was only twenty and her father had a mounting fear that she would become spoiled meat, unused and discarded on the sidelines. He said she was too shy when in actuality it was the men who lacked gumption. She was a strong woman and knew that despite the silk casing, men could read that. She thought earlier to when that Chuck Bass fellow had sent her a drink. She could count on her five fingers how many times that had happened before.

Thinking of Mr. Bass, she slipped out of her dress and pulled on a nicer frock. A quick look in the mirror to make sure everything was straight and then she headed down to the foyer. There her father was standing with a man who looked at least ten years her senior and his junior. She knew this was the ideal age for a potential suitor.

"Oh, Blair," Harold said, reaching for her hand. "Let me introduce you to Ronald Palmer. He is a new lawyer at my firm."

_Yet another person in your clutches_, she thought. This was someone her father no doubt would want as a son-in-law because his power to control would be nearly absolute. Ronald Palmer did not see the trap he was walking into, though. All he saw was a beautiful woman. She could tell by the way his eyes travelled up and down her body that he had noticed the way her dress hugged her curves, how it offset her porcelain skin.

"Ronald and I were supposed to be out for dinner," Harold said jovially, "but I am just swamped. Would you mind accompanying him dear?"

"It's at Lawry's," Ronald said, as if this would make a difference. He did not understand that Harold's suggestion was a sugar-coated order.

"Let me just grab my coat," Blair said.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

"New York is going dry," Chuck told Nate, leaning back in his chair as he continued. "I feel that my time here is coming to a close."

"Where are you going to go?"

As Chuck went to respond a waitress came with their food and he hesitated as she placed a steaming steak in front of him and then Nate. Chuck watched the waitress walk away and then said, "You've heard about Vegas, haven't you?"

Nate wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Seems a bit tried, doesn't it? Everyone's escaping to Vegas."

"I'm not _escaping_, Nathaniel. I'm expanding my horizons. Look, first and foremost I am a money man and there is money to be made in Vegas."

"What are you looking at?"

Chuck held all the cards in his hand and took a moment to build anticipation as he cut into his steak and took a bite. He looked at Nate and coolly said, "I've been talking with some people down there, Santori in particular."

"And?"

"He has a hotel that he thinks would benefit from my attention."

"A hotel?" Nate asked. "Don't you think you're going a little soft?"

"Look, I could live a comfortable life there and still have a hand in the business. It's too stressful here and I'm becoming too well-known. I don't like people looking at me like they do here. It makes it too difficult to get things done."

"And you think Vegas will be any different?"

"Everyone down there is like me," Chuck pointed out. "No one would take a second glance."

Something that drew a second glance in the restaurant was the entrance of Blair Waldorf on the arm of some guy too young to be a relative but old enough to welcome gossip. He knew the dinner was romantic as he watched the man clumsily pull out her chair. She gave him a slight smile and but Chuck saw it drop when the man was not facing her.

"Ms. Waldorf is gracing us with her presence again," Chuck noted casually. Nate turned for a glance and shook his head, "I know that tone, man."

"What do you mean?"

"Leave her alone."

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Ronald Palmer was by far the dullest man Blair had ever met in her twenty years of living. The one favorable thing regarding her father was that he did not bring his work home to her-excluding possible son-in-laws of course. He rarely spoke of the firm and it that was something that made Blair grateful. She played the avid listener, however, and Ronald was ever so happy to play along.

"That is so interesting," Blair remarked after a rather long story that she had zoned out of halfway through. Ronald beamed and she let her eyes casually slide over his shoulder. Her spine jolted erect when she found the eyes of Chuck Bass watching her.

Ronald began some other story that held none of her interest and she struggled to feign interest as Chuck Bass' eyes kept drawing her back. They exchanged looks so often they may have been sitting at the same table for all the internal dialogue. She grudgingly noted to herself that he was rather attractive. It went beyond the element of danger, too. His face was just pleasant to look at.

"Blair?" She looked at Ronald in alarm. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she answered, nodding her head quickly. "I..excuse me."

She rose from her seat and headed toward the bathroom. She passed Chuck's table as she walked and swore she felt his hand brush her skirt. She went into the bathroom and stepped in front of the mirror. She saw her cheeks were unnaturally flushed and when she laid her hand against one it was hot. Taking deep breaths she told herself to calm down and fixed her hair. Who cares if she happened to run into Chuck Bass twice in one day? Who cares that since she left the club she had been unable to drive him from her mind? None of it mattered. Not one bit. The trajectory of her life was already planned and there was no role written for Chuck Bass.

She found herself peculiarly disappointed at this.

After checking her hair one more time she left the bathroom and found herself face-to-face with Chuck Bass. The way he grinned told her that he had had been waiting for her which oddly thrilled her.

"What are you doing?" She demanded. "You nearly scared me to death."

"Ms. Waldorf," he said in greeting.

"Hello, Mr. Bass. Now, what do you want?"

"I have a proposition for you," he said smoothly. She had expected some lead-up to an improper proposition and was surprised he cut to the chase so quickly.

"And what is that?" She asked coolly.

"I'm heading to Vegas later this week. I would like you to accompany me."

She laughed and asked, "What makes you think I will say yes?"

"A hunch," he said. "I see you paraded around by all your different _elderly_ men."

"Ronald is only thirty," she countered.

"You deserve to be around some men your own age," he filled in. "And I want you." Blair snorted. "And I always get what I want."

"Well, I hate to cut this short but Ronald is waiting." She went to move past him but he grabbed her wrist. "Just think, Blair, all that could be yours. Riches, all the clothes and jewels you could dream of- it could all be yours. You would have your own life."

She avoided his eyes but his words had struck home. He let go of her arm and wiped his hands on his pants as if to wipe himself of her. "The choice is yours."

He walked away, leaving her alone in the corridor. She took a moment to compose herself and then walked back to the table. Ronald started another riveting story while she kept tearing her eyes forcefully from Chuck. His words kept replaying in her mind.

_You would have your own life._

She thought of her father and the endless round of dates she would be subjected to until she was effectively married off. She thought of her clothes for events carefully laid out and the harsh looks for when any unruly behavior-however slight-surfaced. Her entire life had been chosen for her and now she had a chance to be the driving force of her future.

_The choice is yours._

A bit of movement over Ronald's shoulder caught her attention and she looked up to see Chuck and his partner leaving. She watched them walk out and felt a mounting panic as she considered that she would never see him again. He would be going to Vegas. _I could be going to Vegas_, she thought.

She was up from her seat before she could effectively think through her actions and rushed out the door. Chuck was climbing into a towncar and she called out his name. He stopped midstoop and straightened up coolly.

"Reconsidering?"

"I'll go," she said. "I'm not going for you, but I'll go."

Slowly a smile spread on his face and he said, "Very good. We'll be in touch." He went to climb into the car and she asked, "When will I hear from you?"

Over his shoulder he told her, "Like I said, we'll be in touch."

The door closed and the car drove away, leaving Blair shivering alone on the street wondering just what she had gotten herself into.

**A/N: So, thoughts? Is this worth continuing? Next chapter will be the departure and then the story will take place primarily in Vegas :-)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow. That response was just ridiculous. I wasn't sure if this would gain a strong following and I am so happy/relieved that it did. I really enjoy writing this so I am glad that you equally enjoy reading it! So..enough of me talking and more of Chuck and his Bassness ;-)**

Decisions

It had been three days and Blair had not heard a word from Chuck Bass. He had told her he would be in touch and with each passing day she found herself torn between thinking it a shame and a blessing. Ever since she had ran after him that night she thought it a bit of a mistake. She was a politician's daughter, after all. What right did she have to go off with some B-rate mobster? It would be a slap to society. It would be a slap to her father.

She decided it was a good thing that Chuck Bass had not contacted her. A good thing, indeed. He had probably found a new pretty thing to lust after and she would no longer shame her family. In the end, they both benefited.

She was languishing in the sitting room when a knock on the door drew her from her thoughts. She rose from her seat and hurried to the door. To the sound of the pitter-pattering of her feet she foolishly wondered if the door would reveal Chuck Bass. With her thoughts very much in this direction she opened the door and her hopes deflated like a pin-pricked balloon when she found the plain, ordinary mailman.

"Ms. Waldorf," he said, tipping his head in greeting. He handed over the mail and she gave him a tepid thanks as she closed the door. Atop a stack of newspapers was a cream envelope addressed to her and she felt her stomach stir as she set down the rest of the mail and gingerly open the envelope. Out slid a folded piece of paper and she opened it carefully as if something might jump out.

_Be at Lawry's at 7:00_

She closed the letter quickly and shoved it in her pocket. Although she was alone she looked around guiltily and the scrap of paper felt as heavy as a rock in her pocket. She didn't understand why she felt so guilty. It was not as if she would heed the invitation. With time she had seen the silliness of her hasty action. A woman of her standing did not escape to Vegas. It simply was not done. Even more so, they did not escape with notorious mobsters. She pulled the letter from her pocket and crumpled it in her palm. She threw it into the garbage and threw in her banana peel from breakfast for good measure. She would not be seeing Chuck Bass.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

"Tonight is the night," Nate said, looking across the street once before crossing. Chuck was a step behind him but did not even glance at the oncoming traffic as he followed his friend. It was as if he thought the mob controlled the traffic, as well. "I still am having trouble remembering how you convinced me to come with."

"Let's face it, Nathaniel. You are nothing without me."

They stopped at a corner and cars rolled by. "I keep you straight, Bass. Without me you'd be running after every young doll you saw."

Chuck never argued with someone when they were right.

"You think that doll of yours will show up tonight?" Nate asked.

"Without a doubt. That girl is easy as pie to read. All she wants is to call the shots for once."

"And you'll let her?" Nate asked incredulously. "I mean, Chuck..."

"To a degree I will," Chuck reasoned. "Besides, she'll be good entertainment. Until the next one, that is."

"The next one?"

Chuck grinned. "Nathaniel, my boy, there is _always _a next one."

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Blair sat across the dinner table from Harold and watched him calmly cut off a piece of steak and place it in his mouth. His usual precision was evident as he left not a fiber of meat clinging to the flesh before bringing it to his mouth. He chewed methodically and smiled slightly when he caught her gaze.

"Would you like to say something, dear?"

"Oh, no," she said, looking sheepishly at her plate.

"Eat your steak, Blair. I can't have you getting too thin on me. A man doesn't want to marry a bag of bones."

Blair bit her tongue to keep herself from speaking back. It was always marriage talk with her father. Everything she did fed off somehow into her becoming some man's wife. A knock on the door sounded behind her and Harold smiled expectantly before rising from his seat. She didn't bother to turn because she knew exactly who would be at the door. Sure enough, Harold returned with a rather pale Ronald whose skin had the oddest pallor. Harold gestured to the chair beside Blair and said, "I'll go tell the cook to make you a plate."

She regrettably watched her father disappear. She looked back to Ronald and he was gazing at her so intently that it made her jump. "Blair, there is something that I must discuss with you."

"Yes?"

"As you know, your father has graced me with a fairly well-establish place in his firm."

She nodded.

"Well, considering my economic situation I have started thinking about what would be best for my future. As you probably know, I am rather fond of you and..."

_Oh no,_ she thought. This all sounded very much like talk of love. And talk of love with Ronald could only lead to one thing and it was something that she was not prepared nor willing to touch on. With every word he seemed to be edging closer and she gasped as he clumsily backed the chair up and dropped onto one knee.

"Oh dear," she breathed out.

"Blair, will you marry me?"

Her answer was clear in her mind and it was most clear to him as she jumped form her chair and dashed out. Her father had been waiting at the door and grabbed at her arm.

"Blair, what are you doing?"

She wrenched her arm from his grasp and hurried from her home. The truth was, she didn't know what she was doing. She was running away from her childhood home, all she had ever known and the path before her was terribly hazy. With her father on her heels she hailed a taxi and climbed in just before he reached her. She turned in the seat as the car drove away and watched his form grown smaller and smaller in the distance.

"Where to?" The driver asked.

She turned back around in the seat and was suddenly gripped with fear. What in the world was she doing? She didn't have clothes or money. She would only end up returning home to her father and Ronald, a life of boring functions and menial conversations. It would be back to the daily grind, the uneventful daily grind.

Unless-

"Where to, miss?" the driver repeated.

Without hesitation Blair said, "Lawry's, please."

It was 5:57 when the host took her to a table and she nervously looked around for Chuck, her nerves mounting with each passing minute. She worried at she was too late, although the letter had specified 6:00. Even worse, she worried that Chuck had forgotten about her, that her accepting the invitation had satisfied his conquest. At 6:05 a man approached.

"Blair Waldorf?" She nodded. "Come with me."

She followed him out the back to a limo and the door opened to reveal a man that she also recognized from the papers. She knew him as Nathaniel Archibald, one of Chuck's business men. She carefully climbed in and sat beside Chuck who was seated at the back of the limo, looking at home among the plush seats and decanters of liquor.

"You came," he said smugly.

"I nearly didn't," she answered in like. "You got lucky. It was either this or marriage."

"Marriage?" Nate asked. "She was more tied down than you thought, Chuck."

"I see you didn't bring luggage," Chuck noted. Blair, having felt a bobby pin slip, reached up and fixed it as she said, "It was a bit of a hasty exit."

"Your wardrobe and such can be remedied in Vegas," he supplied.

"Yes," she answered, her hands dropping to her lap as the reality of her choice settled. "In Vegas."

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

They took the private plane and as the country passed below them Chuck asked her about the marriage she had escaped. He seemed to be even more thrilled at her coming with this new development. He saw it as him almost serving as the protector. She had almost been locked in a marriage and his off-the-cuff invitation was her escape.

"He was exactly who my father wanted," Blair said. "Someone he could control."

"Your father's a smart man," Chuck conceded. He didn't agree with the man's actions but he couldn't help but coolly admire the complete ease in which he seemed to orchestrate those around him.

"He's smart but oblivious to everything around him," Blair said.

"So, not that smart," Nate said, garnering a small grin from Blair.

"He thinks everyone loves him. He has this vision of him being the beloved politician but he doesn't have the facilities to achieve it." She paused for a moment and added, I love my father, I do. But he will never be a politician and he will never control me. Not again."

The plane began its descent and she glanced out the window. Even in the air she could see the rich expanse of Las Vegas and felt something hum within her. She felt alive-albeit nervous-for what she was about to face. Nate saw the slight hesitation on her face and said, "You'll be taken care of, don't worry."

She figured he was referring to monetary means but she felt her head nod and cheeks blush regardless.

The plane touched down and as they climbed out Chuck left first and then offered her his hand as she descended. The feel of his skin against hers made her shiver slightly. They walked from the tarmac and made their way toward the city. She had seen pictures of Vegas during the day, all flashing lights and spinning roulette wheels. At night, it was entirely different. The flashing lights glowed and what during the day was simply colorful became positively technicolor. Energy pulsated at every corner, every stop. She glanced at Chuck as they walked and all the angles of his face were illuminated by the harsh glow of the casino lines. She felt eyes follow her, follow the curves of her tight dress. Chuck felt it too and protectively put his hand on the small of her back as if he were leading her forward.

"Watch that hand, Bass," she told him lightly.

"Surely," His eyes travelled to her bottom. "I have a nice view."

As they walked down the strip a woman in a tight dress sidled up to Nate and placed a smooth hand on his chest as she cooed, "Looking for a ride, baby?"

He chuckled uncomfortably and said, "Another night, maybe."

"Whatever you say, baby," she cooed, reaching into her cleavage and pulling out a card. "You call me if you want anything."

Nate stared at her retreating form in awe as Chuck laughed. "Welcome to Las Vegas."

**A/N: Next chapter, major Vegas baby! I am kind of (read: extremely) excited to write all of these Vegas scenes. It should be a fun ride :-D**

** Please review! Your feedback was AMAZING last chapter but I think we can do even better ;-)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: New chapter! This one is full of Vegas. Full of shopping. Full of eating. And..you get to meet some new (and old) characters! I hope you enjoy it :-D**

The Player Gets Played

Her first morning in Las Vegas and the very first sight she was welcomed with was a uniformed man in the doorway offering her a tray of assorted breakfast pastries. They had arrived at Chuck Bass' hotel the night before. He had gone off to speak with a few people regarding the casino while Nate took her up to the room. They had reserved the best, which she figured was not too surprising considering Chuck would be running the place. The room was all velvet and decadence and while she generally favored something a bit more streamlined, she felt remarkably at home. Nate had shown her to her bedroom and then closed the door softly behind her. She had half-expected him to follow her in but was relieved he didn't. She knew well enough that she would be fighting off the advances of one of them and she was only too happy to only have to deal with that one.

"Are these all for me?" She asked the man with the pastries, her eyes glazing over as she spotted her favorite.

"Compliments of Mr. Bass."

"Of course," she said dryly. "This is his room, after all."

"No," the man said, a slight pucker forming between his eyebrows as he frowned. "This is just your room, miss. Mr. Bass lives one floor above."

She knew instinctually that one floor above meant an even larger, more ornate room and she idly wondered just how her room could ever be improved on. The man shifted a bit, drawing her from her thoughts, and she offered a sheepish smile before reaching forward and taking the cheese Danish.

"Thank you, this will be all," she told him.

"Well, I will just place the rest on the table," he said as she stepped to the side to let him in. He placed them carefully on the table and then offered her a stiff bow before leaving. Blair sat down on the couch- which was surprisingly less comfortable than it looked-and set into devouring that Cheese Danish. She hadn't realized how hungry she was and finished the Danish in nearly three bites. There was another knock on the door and she walked over and opened it to reveal Chuck.

"I see you got the pastries," he said, glancing over her shoulder.

"How can you tell?" she asked lightly.

"I see them on the table behind you," he explained with his usual control. "And you have a bit of icing at the edge of your mouth."

Her eyes widened slightly as she quickly wiped at her mouth. Sure enough she felt the sticky moisture on her fingers and wiped them on the material of the housecoat she had found in the closet.

"So, now that you've eaten it is time you leave this room."

"Where are you taking me?" She asked.

"I am not taking you anywhere," he said. "I will be taking over the casino in a few days and there are many people I need to meet with. Nate will be taking you shopping. You need clothes, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Well, he will buy you whatever you want. No pearls, though, I detest pearls."

She gave him a steely look and replied, "I am coming back with as many strands as I can find."

He grinned at her stubbornness and said, "How did someone as entertaining as you come from Harold Waldorf?"

"That is a very good question," she shot back with a light grin. "Now, where am I going shopping?"

"Wherever you want."

Blair had always enjoyed shopping and she grinned at the prospect of an entirely uninhibited day of it. "Very good, let me change and then Nate and I can leave."

"Come up to my room when you're ready," he said. "I live directly above you."

"Listening through the floor?" she asked with a jaunty tilt of her head.

"No need," he said simply. "Don't take too long to get ready now."

"How can I with my one outfit? I'll be up in ten minutes."

He nodded and shut the door as he left. She turned quickly and went into her room. She took off the housecoat and slipped out of the negligee she had found lying on the bed. It seemed Chuck had thought of some things before they had arrived. She pulled her dress from before off of the hanger and slipped into it, struggling a bit to pull the zipper up a particularly difficult to reach expanse of her back. Once she was dressed she ran a comb through her hair, pinned it back a bit to keep it off her face, and applied one stroke of mascara to each of her eyes. Content with her appearance she left the room and took the elevator up one floor. She found the room easily and went to knock when she heard voices.

"This will be too easy," she heard a man say. She recognized the voice as Chuck's and leaned in toward the door, careful not to touch it. "You should have seen her when I told her you would take her shopping."

"How long do you think it will take?" another man asked. It took her a bit longer but she placed the voice to Nate's face.

"I give it a week, two tops. I'm wearing her down already. All she wants is freedom and like any girl she can be swayed with presents. I give her the room, all the jewels and clothes she wants. She'll be mine quicker than this casino will."

She felt her cheeks burn with anger at his simplistic reading of her. She remembered the enthusiasm in which she had responded to Chuck's earlier visit and chided herself for forgetting the reason she was here at all. He had invited her because he wanted to own her just as much as her father had. This was not a comfortable vacation, this was a business trip in which he planned to acquire both the casino and her. Well, that would simply not happen. She straightened up and knocked on the door. A moment later Nate opened the door and gave her a warm smile. In that moment, she knew precisely what she would do.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, catching Chuck's eye over his shoulder. "I am ready."

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

She was fond of Nate from the first time she met him. He was kind to her on the ride to the airport while her nerves threatened to send her over the edge. He was nothing but courteous when they arrived in Las Vegas, catering to her every need as Chuck dealt with the casino. Through all of this she had also found that he was not remarkably bright. This would work to her advantage. She also knew that he was loyal to Chuck, loyal to idiocy in fact. And this would possibly get in her way, but she had conveniently been taught the art of flattery essentially from infancy and as she had reached womanhood, she had been taught the art of seduction. It helped that she was attractive, of course, and her personality generally matched her looks. His loyalty to Chuck was a small hiccup but one that she was sure she could overcome.

Her head tensed uncomfortably when she thought of what she had heard. Chuck intended on cashing in on her accompanying him, something she had explicitly told him would not happen. And Nate was an accomplice. That was why she did not feel guilty for what might befall him if her plans went through. He was a complicit player in Chuck Bass' plans, therefore she had no qualms with utilizing him for her own.

She was in this small boutique looking through dresses while Nate sat in the plush seats that high-priced boutiques always make sure to supply for those who really hold the money. She selected several curve hugging ensembles and let a salesperson lead her to a dressing room. As she pulled on a dress so form fitting that she felt as if she were wearing saran wrap, the first part of her plan solidified. Stepping out of the dressing room, she walked out where Nate was sitting and felt a rush of pleasure as she felt all eyes land on her. He came a bit after but there was no denying the naked pleasure on his face.

"Blair," he stuttered, running a hand shakily through his hair.

"How do I look?" she asked, feigning nerves as she turned one knee inward. "Do you think it looks okay?"

He swallowed hard and replied, "It looks fine."

She smiled brilliantly and said, "Good, I just had to make sure. These are expensive, after all, so I don't want to get dresses that don't flatter my figure."

He nodded as his eyes took in that exact figure. "Of course."

"Do you mind if I show you all of them?"

He sat up a bit straighter. "No, of course not."

"Great, I'll be back in a second."

She went to the dressing room, smiling smugly at how well her plan was already going. She slipped into her next dress and followed the same pattern. She showed Nate, watching the way his eyes travelled over the contours of his body. Despite his trying to hide it, she knew he enjoyed what was before him. It was obvious in the way he looked at her, even the way he sat. This was the easy part, though. Right now her intentions were innocuous, at least to him. It would be later that she would have to use everything she had.

They left the store with three bags and enough dresses to last her two weeks without repeating outfits. She had also picked up several strands of pearls, just to see how Chuck would react. It was nearly one when they left the boutique and Nate suggested, "Let's grab a bite to eat."

There were so many possible benefits from this lunch that she could only nod and swallow down the different ways in which this lunch could advance her plans. As they drove into the strip again she thought over the different tactics she could use in lunch. There were many avenues she could take and she weighed out each carefully as they drove past casino after casino. She could start her seduction over the table, possibly accidentally graze his leg with her foot under the table. She had heard of girls doing this back home and had known the results were usually favorable. She felt that Nate was different, though. She still had to tread carefully around his subservience to Chuck and felt that a more gradual approach would be optimal.

"So tell me, what does Chuck do?" she asked over two plates of spaghetti.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I always read about him in the papers but we all know how biased those can be."

Nate looked uncomfortable as he told her, "Chuck was a bootlegger."

"And?"

He looked at her firmly and said, "That is all you need to know."

"I followed the man across the country, I think I have a right to know who he is."

"I can tell you what he is doing here and that is all," Nate said.

"Fine, tell me what he does here."

"He is taking over one of Gene Santori's casinos. Profit has been down and Chuck was the right card to play."

She smiled. "Good pun."

"He is in charge of the entire hotel but primarily the casino. He will revamp the layout, the machines, everything. If the revenue matches what Santori wanted Chuck will have a permanent home here. If not, he'll be put on a sort of probation."

"Why does he want me?" she asked. "Does it have something to do with my father?"

"No, actually," Nate said. "He saw you at that lounge and wanted you. It's as simple as that."

"Does he do this often?"

"Often enough," Nate admitted with a noncommittal shrug. "But they usually comply much quicker than you did."

"I'm not his average hussy," she provided with a sharp sniff.

Nate eyed her appreciatively, "No, you are not."

They chatted amicably for a while longer when she saw a couple approach the table. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the tall blonde whose dress left little of her long, tanned legs to the imagination. The man had his arm wrapped around her waist and smiled when he caught Blair's eyes.

"Do you know them?" Blair asked quietly, nodding her head in their direction. Nate looked up and smiled wide as he said, "Carter, my man, how are you?"

Carter grinned and said, "Very good, who is this with you?"

"Blair Waldorf," she said, extending a manicured hand. Serena beat her partner to the punch and shook Blair's hand exuberantly as she said, "Serena Van der Woodsen, I just love your dress."

"Thank you."

"I'm Carter Baizen," he said, giving Serena an indulgent pat on her bottom. "And Serena is overly stimulated by clothing."

"Would you like to sit?" Nate asked, gesturing to the empty seats beside them. Carter looked to Serena and she nodded her head happily. They sat down beside them then, Serena beside Blair and Carter beside Nate. She caught the look that Serena and Carter exchanged and she thought to herself that it would not be a bad idea to plant a seed in the heads of these two unassuming blondes. Smiling coyly at Nate she said, "Your lunch looks divine. Mind if I have a taste?"

Before he could respond to leaned forward in a manner that would leave Nate powerless to deny the dip of her neckline and she speared two mostacollis with her fork. His eyes met hers as she slid the fork between her lips and she closed her eyes in culinary desire as she chewed what was realistically a subpar pasta dish. Still, though, she had a part to play so when she finished she cooed, "Delicious."

Serena and Carter exchanged another telling look and Blair suppressed her grin.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Nate dropped her off at her room and told her he had some business to attend to. As far as she had known his only business was to take care of her and she found his hasty excuse a bit suspect. She didn't worry too much about it, though. She knew he felt he was entering dangerous territory and she wanted him to feel some of the heat. She needed him to, in fact.

She walked in and Nate closed the door behind her. There in the living room Chuck sat on the couch and he offered her an easy smile that dimmed when he saw the strand of pearls around her neck.

"I see you were not kidding about the pearls," he said.

"No," she retorted. "I was not."

He stood up and she noticed the box on the table for the first time. He picked it up as he walked toward her and said, "Take it off."

"I will not."

He sighed and gently nudged her toward an ornate mirror hanging as decoration on the wall and opened the box beside her. Despite her best efforts her eyes widened when she saw the most beautiful necklace she had ever encountered in her twenty years of living. Without a word he placed it on the small table in front of her and reached to her neck and unclasped the pearl necklace. He slipped it into the pocket of his jacket and then took the other necklace from its box. Her breath caught when he clasped it behind her neck and her fingers went to the large stones of their own accord. She could feel his breath on her neck as he murmured, "Now this is a necklace worthy of your beauty."

His eyes locked with hers in the mirror and she felt for a moment as if she would faint. As swiftly as the moment came, it passed, and he stepped back as he said, "I'll be keeping your pearl necklace and any others that I happen to find."

"Are you going to go through my things?" She tossed off, relieved that her voice did not tremble.

"No, but I am positive you will wear the rest to taunt me."

She couldn't deny the idea had passed through her mind.

"I would like you to join me for dinner tonight," Chuck said after a moment. "I want you to meet Gene Santori."

"Alright."

He began to leave and said, "Wear that necklace."

She nodded as he left, knowing full well that she would be wearing yet another strand of pearls at that dinner.

**A/N: Yes..this was a bit Nate/Blair heavy but it was necessary. More Chair next chapter, including that dinner!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello! I know this took a while. I sort of lost my direction for this but I think I found it again, lol. I hope you enjoy it!**

Let The Games Begin

She took special care in dressing for dinner. Despite her decidedly platonic-if not-cool feelings toward Chuck she felt the need to present herself well. Perhaps it was the ingrained mindset of those hailing from society or they way she had shivered when his skin brushed hers earlier. Whatever the reasoning, she settled on a dark green satin dress that nipped in at her waist. The skirt was fuller than her others but she had decided that she would not show Chuck anymore than he deserved. The neckline was tastefully high which allowed the necklace to grab the attention it warranted. After putting on a spot of make-up she sat down on the couch and waited for Chuck to knock on the door.

As timed passed she grew impatient and thought to herself that it was preposterous for her to wait when she was more than capable of taking the elevator down to the restaurant and waiting for him there. Perhaps she would even meet this Gene Santori before Chuck arrived. She was thrilled by the idea of chatting this man up before Chuck had a chance to properly introduce them. She knew Chuck would be irritated by the seeming lack of control. Quickly she grabbed her purse and left her room.

The elevator ride was shorter than she remembered and she walked out, going through the casino first as she made her way toward the restaurant. The casino was beautiful but as she walked she could already see the issues that she was surprised this Santori man had not spotted himself. The popular machines were pushed against wall, nearly hidden between the low-paying and low-yielding penny and nickel. Quarter machines should be mixed with those, she thought. Then if someone was playing penny and not winning they could just shift to the next one and find themselves shelling out twenty four cents more. She knew how people worked and most would not be opposed to the price jump. Most had the vacation mentality and were willing to spend. The solution to it all seemed clear to her and as she walked into the restaurant she wondered if it was clear to Chuck, as well. Solving that problem was the reason he was there, after all.

She spotted a man who she would bet money was Gene Santori and she walked toward him gingerly. She noticed the air of authority first and then the well-tailored suit and heavy pinky ring. His hand held a round tumbler filled with gin. If this man was not Gene Santori she would be terribly surprised. In front of him she demurely asked, "Mr. Santori?

He looked at her in surprise and said, "Do I know you?"

"I'm Blair Waldorf."

His eyes lit with recognition as he said, "Oh, right, Waldorf. You're Chuck's girl, right?"

Blair pursed her lips into a tight frown and answered, "Not exactly. Chuck served as my ticket out of New York. Seems to be serving as a meal ticket, too."

Santori grinned wide as a guffaw escaped his lips. "He said you were spirited."

"Care to take a seat?" She asked smoothly.

"Shouldn't we wait for Chuck?"

She jutted her hip out just enough so the curve of her body was insinuated as she replied, "He's a big boy. I'm sure he can find his way to the table."

Santori's eye found the curve of her hip beneath all that satin and his lips pulled into a grin. He nodded his head appreciatively and she knew she had gotten him when he placed his hand on the small of her back and led her to the table. She sat opposite him and he asked, "So, Waldorf, huh?"

She nodded.

"Your dad is one big prick," Santori said with a frown. "Sorry, I had some issues with him back in New York."

"No offense taken," Blair said lightly. "I agree for the most part. Although I would put it in different terms."

"Well, of course," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You are a lady after all."

"That's debatable," Chuck said from behind her. She turned toward him with a societal grin and said, "How charming, Chuck."

"A lady would wait for the man to come to her room before leaving," Chuck said, sitting beside her. "Otherwise said man is left knocking on the door for five minutes."

"You really waited five minutes?" she asked in bemusement. "You're quite persistent, Bass."

He ignored her and addressed Santori as he said, "So, I am assuming Blair already introduced herself."

Santori grinned, "Yes, she did. And I must add, made quite the impression. You're a lucky man, Chuck."

"And why is that?" Blair chirped, resting her elbow on the table and dropping her chin into her palm. "I don't see why he's so lucky."

"With a gal like you on his arm, how can he not be?"

"So, I'm the gal on your arm?" she asked Chuck with a cloying grin. "Is that so?"

Chuck saw the fire in her eyes and said, "Figure of speech, Blair."

"Oh, of course."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stir up trouble," Santori said. His eyes glittered as he added, "Not that I don't enjoy it from time to time."

"You stirred up nothing," Blair said calmly. "There is nothing to stir, after all." She glanced to her side. "Correct, Chuck?"

"Never argue with a woman when they are right," Chuck conceded, drawing a grin from Santori.

"Does that mean you are available for a drink later tonight?" Santori asked Blair pointedly, the edges of his mouth turning down into a wolfish grin. Blair looked at Chuck as she replied, "I would be delighted."

Santori chuckled and put his hands up in a yielding position as he said, "Nah, I was just kidding. Never get between a man and his girl." Blair tried to keep her irritation in check at his blatant disregard for all she had said. "Now, Blair, how are you liking Las Vegas. How do you like my hotel?"

Blair had thought this hotel had become Chuck's and saw from the firm set of Chuck's jaw that he had thought the same. It seemed Santori was not willing to give away the hotel entirely yet. "I like it here. The area is beautiful, as is your hotel." She hit Chuck's foot beneath the table as she told Santori, "You really have done a wonderful job with the place."

Santori smiled like a proud father and said, "I know, it really is beautiful." He picked up his drink and took a long sip. He raised the glass toward Chuck and said, "Here's to hoping Chuck over here can make it even better."

"I'm sure he will," Blair said, glancing over at Chuck who just gave a modest nod and replied, "I will do my best."

Santori leaned back in his chair and looked around. "Where is the damn waiter? You'd think the owner of the place would get good service, huh?"

"At least they don't discriminate," Blair tossed off lightly. Santori grinned but replied, "This still is unacceptable." He snapped his finger at a passing waiter and told him, "You will be our waiter." The boy's eyes widened as he recognized his boss and he stammered, "Yes, of course, Mr. Santori."

Santori looked down at the menu briefly and then said, "Tell the chef to bring us a selection of dishes. Whatever he feels like but tell him that it better be good."

The waiter nodded and hastily picked up all of the menus. Santori clicked his tongue as the waiter walked away and said, "This, my boy, is what you will have to deal with. Incompetence, that is what you will have to grapple with."

"Well, if we have to wait at least we are in good company," Chuck said smoothly. He glanced at Blair and said, "Don't worry, Blair, that was not a come on."

"I wasn't worried," Blair told him levelly. "You know I'm out of your league." She looked at Santori and explained, "He has delusions of grandeur, as you can see."

"He doesn't look too delusional to me."

Blair fell silent for a moment as she accepted the fact that she was sitting between two immovable rocks set on the same belief that she would be Chuck's. She comforted herself with the hard held knowledge that both of them were wrong.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Dinner moved along in the same fashion as it had started and it ended with Santori heading to check on a few things in the back while Chuck took Blair to the lounge to meet up with Nate. Blair was agitated from the assumptions that had been made the entire meal and was elated at the prospect of spending time with the other man. She liked Nate. She liked that he was easy, so unlike Chuck who always seemed to be one step ahead, one sharp remark further than her. Nate's eyes brightened when he saw her and she thought to herself that perhaps her corruption of him would occur sooner than anticipated. She sat beside him and asked for a sip of his drink. Her eyes casually finding Chuck's, she held his gaze over the rim of the glass as she tipped it back.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Chuck watched her sidle up to Nate and suppressed a frown. He knew exactly what she was doing. It was obvious, her intentions painfully clear. He would have sniffed her out even if he hadn't run into Carter and Serena down in the casino and been told about how charming Nate's new girl was. He knew exactly where Nate was and exactly who he was with. For a moment he thought that perhaps his vixen really had fallen for the doe-eyed Nate but the furtive looks she passed him as she flirted with the later made her act transparent.

With the knowledge of what game she was playing he intended to play his own. He had always been a person who was one step ahead- a man didn't find success in the business without having that skill- and while Blair thought she was being clever, he was being even more so. He would let her dangle Nate in front of her because he knew Nate's moral complex and loyalty to him would outweigh any of her coquetry. And even if it didn't he would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him jealous.

He would get her eventually. Her attraction to him bled from every look, every touch. It was undeniable and with time she would have to face it. He would make sure of that.

So, for now he would let Nate enjoy her company. He would sit beside them, a third wheel to the twisted partnership. In the end, though, she would be his.

**A/N: Please review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: New chapter! I know this took me a bit but I think it is worth the wait. I know what happens and with that knowledge I am relatively sure you will agree with me ;-)**

In Cahoots

Blair walked through the casino, letting her eyes linger on a particularly attractive man over by the bar. Her eyes flitted past when a woman with an ostentatious wedding ring ran her hand over his shoulder. It was either a wife or seedy mistress but either way she wanted nothing to do with it. She saw Chuck standing at the center of the room, looking around in a scrutinizing manner. Her lips pulled at a grin as she strode over to him and said, "Don't look so serious, Bass."

"I have a job to do here, Blair."

"Doesn't mean you have to have such a long face."

"Can't Nate take you shopping or something?" he asked smoothly, casting her a look that told him all of her flirting with his doe-eyed partner had not gone unnoticed. Blair had dangled Nate in front of him for the past week, sidling up to the blonde every time she had a chance. He had been sure of his partner's loyalty but he could see Nate slowly being broken down by the curve of her smile and the sway of her hips. She was a beautiful woman- that Chuck knew-and he worried that perhaps her beauty would overshadow his power.

"I know the problem," Blair said, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked down at her coolly and responded, "I'll take this to mean that Nate is not, in fact, taking you shopping."

"He's on a business lunch," she told him.

"Business lunch? But with who?"

She shrugged her shoulders, not entirely seeing why it mattered. "I think that Baizen man."

The possibility of being played by both Blair and Nate had lit a jealous fire beneath Chuck's eyes but it dimmed at Blair's words. "Oh, I see. That, Blair, is a lunch of pleasure, not business."

"All the same," she replied. "I still know the problem."

She was baiting him with this and he thought to himself that baiting him was an activity she enjoyed a bit too much. Her eyes had that gleam to them, though, that mischevious glint that he admired, so he broke down and asked, "What is the problem?"

She pointed to the high-paying machines pushed against the wall and told him, "Move those to the center. They take the highest coins and offer the highest payouts. Intersperse them with the other nickel and dime machines and people will naturally move on to them. There, problem solved."

He stared at her with his mouth slightly agape. That was the exact solution that he had come up with. Well, it was a solution before he had told Santori and had witnessed a very gruff dismissal. "Santori does not want me moving stuff around too much."

"You wouldn't be," she told him. "All you would be doing is moving a few machines."

"That is too much for Santori."

She munched on her recently applied manicure as she thought it over. He watched her with a barely held desire to swat her hand away from her mouth but after a moment she did it on her own and dropped it down to her side. She looked up at him and said, "I could talk to him."

"No-"

"I can be persuasive when I want to."

"He won't listen to you."

"Well, move them anyway," she said after a beat of silence. He gave her a look and she said, "Once he sees how improved the casino's revenue is afterwards he won't be able to say a bad word to you!"

"It's not that easy," Chuck told her. "Santori would notice before the revenue could save me, Blair."

"Not necessarily-"

"Blair, trust me. A large scale move like what you described and I have contemplated is out of the question at this point. Now he wants me to do little things like toying with the lighting and changing the brunch menu."

"That's ridiculous," Blair huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. If I could say a few choice words to that Gene San-"

"Blair," Chuck said hurriedly, his eyes resting just above her shoulder. She knew instinctively that the man she had been railing on about was right behind her and she turned swiftly to find herself staring at the navy shoulder of Gene Santori.

"You had a few choice words for me, Ms. Waldorf?"

She was about to swallow her previous declaration but then she remembered Santori's cavalier behavior toward her at that lunch and she thought of all the times she was unable to speak her mind under the control of Harold Waldorf. When she had left home she had also left the restraint of men. No man would be her possessor. No man would make her hold her tongue. "I was simply telling Chuck here that your machine set-up looks as if it has been designed by a stumbling buffoon."

Chuck seemed to choke on something beside her but she continued nonetheless. "The solution would be clear to the largest imbecile but to you it somehow lost. Well, Chuck has this solution and you are proving a larger idiot than I originally thought by denying him the means necessary to go through with his plan."

She had kept her voice relatively calm throughout her rant but felt a bit nervous as Santori appraised her with a cool eye. Chuck was not making her feel any better as he stared at her with eyes that clearly asked, _What were you thinking?_ After a moment though, Santori let out a deep, throaty laugh and then said, "Well, Ms. Waldorf, perhaps I should listen to your advice. I wouldn't' want you to think that I'm an idiot, after all. Well, that is more than you already do." He looked to Chuck. "Bass, you do whatever you need to boost this place up. I won't get in your way. You should keep Ms. Waldorf near you more often. She is quite the dealmaker."

He walked off as if nothing had happened, Chuck staring after him in disbelief while Blair grinned beside him. She knocked her hand into his elbow and said, "See? I told you I could talk to him."

"How did you do that?" he said, looking down at her. "How in the world did you convince him of that in one minute?"

She shrugged. "The Waldorf charm, I suppose."

"I showed him statistics, research that I spent hours doing. I had spreadsheets and charts, Blair."

"What does it matter?" she asked lightly, flicking a piece of dust off her skirt. "You got what you wanted, haven't you?"

It took him a moment but then he smiled down at her. "You, Blair, are a wonderful woman."

She mirrored his grin. "Yes, I am."

"Come with me to lunch."

She didn't hesitate before following him out of the casino.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Chuck Bass was proving to be decent company and Blair could not tell whether this was due to the man himself or the several Manhattans that she had consumed. There was a sense of camaraderie between them, though. She had felt it since she intervened with Santori. It seemed he had found there was something to respect her for and this was reflected in his treatment of her.

"This is just what we need," he said, pushing his plate of steak away from him. "The machine move will stimulate revenue, I am sure of it. A larger draw will mean a happy Santori-"

"And you will get the hotel," Blair finished with a grin. "You'll have everything you wanted."

"Nearly," he murmured, his eyes locking with hers. She didn't know how to respond and was relieved when the busboy came to take away their plates. With the jumble of plates and worn hands the headiness of the moment had passed. When he looked at her again she knew he had already forgotten what they had said.

"So, what next?" she asked.

"I told them previously to bring us something freshly baked. I hear there is a batch of blueberry muffins."

"Blueberry muffins at this time?"

He nodded. "You would be surprised at the late day muffin consumption."

She giggled to herself and said, "Look at us, discussing muffin consumption. Those back in New York would never believe it. The gangster and the politician's daughter talking of sweets."

"Neither of us are who those in New York think," he told her with a soft grin. She leaned back in the booth and conceded, "You aren't as bad as the newspapers made you out to be." She thought of some of the more damning headlines and asked, "Have you really killed people?"

His face darkened. "No, but I have ordered hits."

She tried to imagine his silky voice ordering the death of another and found it impossible. As she went to speak the waiter came and placed to large plump blueberry muffins on the table along with cups of coffee. Blair grinned and split the muffin straight down the center. She saw Chuck shift but didn't pay him any attention until she felt him staring blatantly at her muffin. She looked up and playfully said, "Stop eyeing my muffin, Chuck dear. Don't be greedy now."

"Let me see the inside."

She looked at him oddly but pushed the plate toward him anyway. He frowned before cracking open his own muffin. Once again, there was a frown. He flagged down a waiter and she watched silently as he began to berate the man for the amount of blueberries.

"This is unacceptable," Chuck said. "Do you see this? Bring me the chef, now."

"What's the problem?" she asked as the waiter hurried back to the kitchen. He pointed at the muffin. "That, Blair, is the problem."

"My muffin?"

"There aren't nearly enough blueberries. When people order a blueberry muffin they will expect blueberries not two or three little blue marks. I have to do everything myself, don't I?"

The chef came over and Chuck parroted the same line in less kind words. The chef hardly looked chagrined as he said, "Blueberries are expensive, Mr. Bass."

"I don't give a damn if they are expensive," Chuck shot back. "I want you to put in the proper amount of blueberries and I want the same amount in each muffin!"

"Sir, that is impossible."

Chuck pulled his lips back into a snarl and said, "Just do it."

The chef walked away, muttering under his breath something that both Chuck and Blair could easily understand. Chuck shook his head while Blair suppressed a grin. After a moment she said, "That was a bit overblown, no?"

"What?"

"Your muffin conniption fit?"

"I like things done well."

"Don't let the machine triumph go to your head," she advised. "That chef will not add any more blueberries because he has a budget to deal with. Instead, he will spit in your food."

"Unlikely-"

"Approach Santori about widening the food budget."

He gazed at her and she realized then that he had also downed as many drinks as her if not more. "You, my dear, are a wonderful addition down here."

"I do what I can."

"Do you know one of the finer benefits of being in the innerworkings in Vegas?" She shook her head. "Never paying one damn bill. Follow me."

He stood up from the table and she suppressed a grin as they essentially dined and dashed. She mused that it really did not matter much. He would own the hotel soon and then everything in it would be his. They snuck from the restaurant and walked out into the bustling casino. His hand caught hers and she didn't let go.

The alcohol was weighing on them heavily and she cursed herself for drinking so early in the day as she tripped on her too-high-heels. He let go of her hand and slid an arm protectively around her waist.

"You're going to fall."

"This is all your fault," she tossed off. "Why did you let me drink so much?"

"Come on, I'll take you back to your room." He led her to the elevators and she fought to keep control of her limbs. When they got to the elevator vestibule he pressed the button and she took deep breaths as she waited for the doors to open. Seconds later they glided apart and he gestured for her to go in first. He followed her in and then the doors closed behind them.

They were alone and despite there being more than enough room he stood so close to her that she could smell his aftershave. His hand brushed her waist and she felt her heart beat quicken as he moved even closer. He was close, so close that his cologne was playing tricks with her senses because she felt as if she wanted him to kiss her. She felt as if his lips on hers would be completely natural when every other logical piece of her told her the opposite. Still, she did not move when his lips finally brushed against hers. She did not move until the doors slid open at her floor and he pulled back of his own accord. He smiled down at her as if he had planned the entire thing and said, "You better lay down, Waldorf. You're looking a little pale."

She stumbled from the elevator and when she looked back she saw that he was standing in the doorway, watching her walk to her room. Despite her better judgment she called back, "You can come if you want."

He hesitated but then said, "You'd better sleep it off, Blair."

She shot him a little grin and then walked to her room. Out of her purse she pulled the key and she opened the door, turning slightly toward the elevator as she walked in. The last she saw of Chuck was a sliver of his face as the elevator doors slid shut.

**A/N: So, I'm in a bit of a pickle. I am still fairly interested in this story but from last chapter's feedback it seems that you all are not. I realize updates have been a bit more sporadic (as is life right now) but I still have plans for this. I don't mean to harp but there was a steep decline from the third to the fourth chapter. This leaves me wondering if you are at all interested in this anymore. So, basically, if you are still wanting to know how this plays out- let me know! It's really that simple :-)**

**T****hank you for reading! I look forward to reading your thoughts on this!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: You guys are amazing. Really, that feedback just blew me away and I am so happy that you all are still excited for this story. Hopefully, this chapter will only add to your excitement. This one may be my favorite, so far! I hope you enjoy it :-D**

No Longer A Memory

It had been one month since Chuck kissed Blair in the elevator and neither of them had mentioned it since. Still, though, it hung between them like a fog that neither could fully escape. If anything, Blair was slightly more reserved around him, the hazy memory of his lips on hers making her question her actions and words. Chuck did not seem affected by it but Blair did not see how his pupils dilated when she entered a room or how his hands trembled.

The casino had flourished with the movement of the machines and Santori happily watched revenue soar. Chuck privileged Blair with the inner workings of the casino, letting her in on bits of the business that would have bored any other person of her gender. He could see she enjoyed the inclusive feeling of their chats and he secretly relished the fact that this was something that his partner Nate could not provide. The latter had predictably fallen into her web and grew more sycophantic toward her with each passing day.

Right now, however, Blair and her mockery of a relationship was the least of Chuck's worries. He stood with Santri in the control room, watching people gamble away their money with big smiles on their faces. It never ceased to surprise Chuck at how utterly joyous people seemed to be to give away their money. They were all going after that big win, Santori told him. Little did they know how far they were from ever getting it. He had been keeping an eye on things on the floor when Santori came to him and said he wanted to have a word with him. He felt the weight of his future bear down on him as he followed Santori into the back and took the private elevator up to the control room. Santori barely spoke which he took as either a good or bad sign. He couldn't be sure which it would be.

"I've been thinking," Santori began, his voice rising above the whirring sound of the camera monitors. "You've done a good job refiguring the casino."

"Thank you."

"And the restaurant, too," Santori added as an afterthought. "The blueberry muffins, bursting with blueberries!"

Chuck grinned and told him, "I'm glad to hear that you are enjoying them."

"You've done good, Bass. You've done good and I think it is time for me to do good." Chuck's body practically thrummed with nervous energy. "I am going to hand over the hotel to you."

Chuck let out a breath that he was unaware was held and immediately began thanking the man. "I cannot thank you enough. I-"

"Hold on, Bass, I'm not finished." Chuck closed his mouth immediately. "I am handing over the hotel to you but I would like something else, as well. You are good at management, Bass, that I cannot deny. Communication, though, is your stumbling block." Chuck did not entirely agree with this but did not argue. "And as you know a hotel cannot be run without communication."

"No," Chuck agreed.

"That is why you will enlist the help of Ms. Waldorf."

"Excuse me?" Chuck spit out, unable to stop himself. "You want Ms. Waldorf to help?"

"Yes, I do," Santori said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You forget that she pitched ideas for me already. That woman is charming and has a business head on her shoulders. Normally I wouldn't trust my glass of scotch with a woman but Ms. Waldorf is different."

"This is ridiculous."

"No, Bass, this is business. You either get the hotel with Ms. Waldorf or you spend the rest of your days here as a pit boss."

Chuck wanted to argue, he wanted to find some of the spark that he had witnessed Blair use against Santori but he realized that such charm was only possessed by a woman. His gender had always gotten him along but he saw now that it would hold him back. Finally he set his mouth into a grim line and said, "Fine, I will talk to Blair."

"And don't think about not going through with it," Santori warned him. "I will be checking up with her."

"I expected nothing less."

Santori grinned wide and extended his hand forward. "Well, Chuck, congratulations. You just got yourself a hotel."

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Blair was able to conceal her smile for the entirety of Chuck's spiel following his talk with Santori but was unable to hide her pleasure as she remarked, "I always knew I liked that man." Chuck's face fell and she said, "You thought I would turn it down, didn't you?"

"I had hoped," Chuck admitted.

"Well, I am not turning down such a wonderful opportunity. How can you expect me to do that, Chuck?" Her grin widened as his frown deepened. "You should be happy, Chuck. This gives you an excuse to spend countless hours with me."

"I know all that takes is a proper meal," he shot back, referring to all the times he had stolen her away from her dresses and Nate to take her for a meal. Blair's grin dimmed at that and she said, "Yes, I know, as does Nate. He was not happy that we had lunch today."

"Why should I care?" Chuck said. "He is still below me, you know. Even more so, now."

"Your elitist attitude is ever so charming, Charles."

"I was the one who made you be here. If I want to take you out for a meal you can be damn sure that I will."

She reached forward and calmed him with a soothing hand over his. "Relax sparky, now we can just call it a business meal."

He shot her a look and she relished the irritation she read. Riding straight past his displeasure she asked, "There will be a party, right?"

"For what?"

"Well, for your taking over the hotel, of course!"

"I don't know," he said. "Perhaps not."

"Nonsense, there must be a proper celebration. This is a big deal, Chuck."

"It's up to Santori."

Blair grinned. "I will talk to him."

"Blair-"

"That is my role in this, isn't it? I am the communicator?"

Chuck frowned. "Fine, do what you want."

Blair stood up, smoothing her skirt with the palms of her hands crisply. "Good, then I will be off to talk to him. And try not to look so down, Chuck. You did gain a hotel, after all, even if you did get an unexpected addition."

She gave him one little smirk before walking from the room. She knew that he was legitimately disturbed when his eyes did not follow the sway of her hips. On her way to talk to Santori she found her path intersected by Nate. He smiled and placed his hands on either side of her waist, pulling her toward him for a soft kiss. She didn't even bother to return the kiss. He was so besotted that just her presence was enough. She knew this from careful removal of herself mentally whenever they were together, noticing that he hardly seemed to notice. As long as she was physically there it seemed that Nate Archibald was happy. There was no conversation, no debate. And ultimately there was no spark. She thought of Chuck as they walked through the hotel, hand in hand. Now _there_ was a spark. It was nearly pyrotechnic between them.

"I'm taking you out for dinner tonight," Nate said.

"Where are we going?"

"You," a voice from behind them began, "are going to Mon Ami Gabi. My treat!"

Blair grinned at the voice and turned to face Gene Santori. He bowed his head slightly toward her and said, "You have to be there to celebrate, Ms. Waldorf. It is partially for you!"

Nate looked confused beside her and she told him, "Mr. Santori gave Chuck the hotel this afternoon and it seems that I will have a role, as well."

"Really? Well, congratulations."

"I expect to see both of you there. Seven o'clock."

"We will be there," Blair told him. Santori nodded with a grin that was almost childish and then walked off. She turned to Nate and said, "I guess I'm taken for dinner."

"I'll be there, too," he reminded her, wrapping his arm around her waist. She wanted to tell him that yes, his dead weight would be felt beside her but she belied her sharp tongue with a tight grin and silently told herself to behave. She had gotten herself into this mess and she would get herself out with tact. How, she had not discerned yet but there had to be a way.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Nate had told her he would come to her room at 7:00 sharp and he was nothing but prompt, showing up a minute early to undoubtedly ensure that no other man whisked away his fair creature. Blair had no doubt his weariness stemmed from Chuck. The latter had been the reason she was there in the first place, after all. He had also learned of the partnership that had formed between her and Chuck. A partnership forced upon them by Santori, which is what she told him. She had to admit, though, that her new role in Chuck's life thrilled her. She liked that she now had some power, some control. Nate disliked it for obvious reasons.

There was chemistry between her and Chuck. It was undeniable and one of the reasons her and Chuck worked well together. The chemistry went beyond work, though. She knew things happened to her whenever he was present. It was little things that she barely noticed but they were there. Her back straightened. Her shoulders pushed down into an erect posture. It was what happened whenever she was near him and it happened again as her and Nate walked into Mon Ami Gabi. Nate's hand on the small of her back felt the tension and he gave her a small look as he said, "Blair, dear, everything okay?"

"It's cold in here," she lied and she knew he could see right through it because beads of perspiration dotted her hairline yet he made no move to argue. He was simple, it was what she had liked about him, and this simplicity made him nod his head. However, the way his arm slid around her waist told her that the lie had not slipped past him.

As she dressed she had been dogged by memories of her and Chuck's time in that elevator and she did not want to talk to him. Shen they neared and his wolfish grin set into place she wanted to even less. His eyes travelled lasciviously up and down the curves of her body and she felt red stain her cheeks. He pulled her in for a chaste kiss on the cheeks as he said, "Waldorf, you are looking beautiful as always."

"Same to you, business partner," she answered, forcing her tone to be all nonchalance. Her voice trembled slightly, though, and the way that Chuck's hand hesitated slightly on the way to pat Nate's arm told her that he had noticed. He looked at her for a moment and said, "Have you already started at the bar, Blair? You sound odd."

"I'm fine."

"Well good, I can't have my business partner dropping too soon. I'd at least want some progress made that I can take credit for." His playful tone made her regain her confidence and she tossed him an affected grin as she said, "Don't start planning my demise just yet. Nate, dear, would you terribly mind getting me a drink?"

"Of course not," Nate said. His eyes met Chuck's as he said, "I'll be right back."

"And we'll be right here," Chuck called out as Nate walked away. He looked again at Blair with a knowing grin and asked, "So, when are you getting rid of the dead weight?"  
"Charming, Chuck."

"I can practically see your eyes glazing over when he talks."

"He's your friend," she pointed out. With a shrug of his shoulders Chuck told her, "Not anymore."

"You men," she sighed, "so quick to turn your head."

"He took what was mine."

"Oh, you mean me?" she asked, feeling her cheeks burn with irritation. "Chuck, let me remind you, I was _never_ yours."

"You were mine the second I gave you an escape from daddy," Chuck told her calmly. "Let's not play games here, Blair."

"I wonder sometimes if you were always like this or if something terrible happened to make you such an insufferable ass," Blair retorted. "And if you're trying to annoy me just so I will not take my place here at the hotel you are wrong."

"Who said that? I'm just stating the obvious. We're inevitable, Blair."

"We are impossible," she enunciated. "Because you, Bass, are a sorry excuse for a man."

He grinned. "Dance with me."

She saw Nate approaching with her drink and gave Chuck a little grin before sidling up toward him and cooing, "What a wonderful suggestion." She took the glass behind Chuck's back. "But I think I will have my drink instead." She shot Nate a bright grin. "Hello, Nate dear."

"You can take the drink with you," Chuck said and before she could protest his arms were around her waist and she was being whisked to the dance floor. She noticed that Nate did not even put up a fight. It seemed he could combat his boss behind the scenes with flowery words and promptness but when faced with the man himself, Nate was as powerless as she remembered.

"He fought so hard for you," Chuck noted. "I was worried for a second."

"Oh, shut up."

"What did you order?" She ignored him and he went on. "Let me guess, a Manhattan?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "How did you know?"

"I have a nose for liquor."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"And I know it is one of your favorite drinks, along with Sidecars, of course. And martinis. I have to say, Blair, I heartily approve of your taste in liquor."

Dryly she replied, "Oh, thank God, I was worried you would disapprove."

"So, I will ask you again, when are you going to ditch Archibald and finally be with a man who appreciates your fire?"

"My what?"

"Nate is much too dull for you, Blair. You deserve someone just as spirited and selfish as you."

"And you are the man for it?"

"Undoubtedly, doll."

She raised her eyebrows slightly and took a sip of her drink. "It is a tempting offer, Bass. But I think I will pass."

"You sure didn't seem to want to pass in the elevator."

She didn't respond, feeling her cheeks burn without her permission. She had been wondering how long it would take for Chuck to bring up the kiss. She had to give him credit, he bid his time until the perfect moment. Encased in his arms, with his face inches from hers, she was unable to avoid the rush of emotions that came with the memory. He watched each one flash on her face.

"I want you Blair," he said. "And I've waited for you longer than I've waited for any other woman."

His words made her stomach flip but she forced a steady voice as she asked, "Is this supposed to impress me?"

"I suppose so, at least a bit."

"I remain unmoved." His lips dropped to her ear and he whispered, "I'm sure I could come up with some way to move you."

"Let's not," she said, gingerly pushing him away. "I'd rather not cause a scene with Nate driving his fist into your face."

"See, I knew you cared about me."

The song ended and she disentangled herself from his arms and said, "Look like that's the end of our dance. I better go cater to Nate. He looks as if he is drooping."

He chuckled slightly and then followed Blair back to the tables, Nate sitting at one in the corner, watching them with blatant disapproval. When she got to him she put her slim arms around his neck and kissed him lightly. Sitting down next to him, she watched Chuck walk away and swallowed disappointment when his hand settled on another woman's lower back.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

The party had ended and Blair was back in her room, changing out of the lavish dress into a simpler nightgown. She was not yet tired and pulled on her dressing gown, watching herself in the mirror as she pulled each arm through. Chuck hardly talked to her after their dance. Despite all of his overtures on the dance floor he became cool and aloof. Perhaps her words had sunk in or he had chosen a different approach for his conquest of her. Whatever it was, it left her feeling cold. She hadn't realized how she had grown to depend on his attention. She had basked in it and when it was taken she felt bare.

There was a knock on the door and she shuffled over, hoping it was not Nate. When she opened the door she found Chuck. His tie was undone and his face bore the marks of a long night.

"Hello," she said.

"Are you alone?"

She nodded.

"I don't like it," Chuck said suddenly. "You and Nate. I don't care if it's a game for you, which I suspect it is. I don't like him touching you. I don't like you hanging on his arm and laughing at his jokes. The truth is I'm a jealous man and since the moment I met you, Blair, I have wanted you for myself. I admire everything about you that Nate is blind to. I admire that fire that is always lit just behind your eyes. I admire the way you scheme and manipulate. I sometimes wish I had more of your skill, in fact." He stepped forward. "Forget Nate, Blair. He will never understand you like I do. He will never appreciate you like I do."

"Why are you here?"

He let out a shaky breath. "Because for the last month I have fallen asleep to the memory of yours lips on mine. Tonight, I don't want it to be a memory."

Without thinking much she grabbed his hand and led him into her room. The door closed softly behind him and they stood before each other, neither speaking as their eyes drank in each other. His eyes settled on how her dressing gown nipped her waist and he moved forward, his hands resting on either side, just above her hips. She kissed him first and as they stumbled backwards toward her bedroom, she felt the slightest bit of hesitation in her own body. She remembered Nate's lips on her own a mere hour previously and she knew that nothing good could come from what she was about to do. Her mind whirred at this most inconvenient time and just as she was about to pull away his hands slipped beneath her dressing gown and all thinking stopped.

**A/N: Are you guys liking this ending? lol**

** So..anyone catch the Gone With The Wind stuff during their dance? If you did- kudos to you. If you haven't then you best be seeing that movie in the near future. It is the only movie which can accurately be called epic.**

** Please leave your thoughts on this!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello everyone! For those of you who already chapter 7, this is the same chapter reposted. I noticed that on the main page of Gossip Girl this still only had 6 chapters (despite it saying 7). So, hopefully this will fix the problem!**

Everything is Different Yet The Same

Chuck Bass had never believed in love. He believed in attraction. He believed in lust. Love was never on the agenda. Lying in her bed, though, with her leg hitched up onto his hip he had to accept the fact that perhaps he was beginning to believe. She slept peacefully and looked so innocent that he could hardly believe this was the same woman who had flirted and schemed her way straight to the top. She looked different with those eyes that were always flashing closed. He thought of the night before and how those eyes had surprised him.

_ She pulled him closer on the bed and pulled his ear to her mouth as she murmured, "You're the first."_

_ He turned his head to look at her face and felt his stomach clench with the vulnerability flashing in her eyes. He didn't understand at first. It was impossible. Someone like her did not get to her age without gaining experience. Surely she meant something different. "You mean…"_

_ She nodded and he pulled her closer as red stained her cheeks. It seemed he had been wrong. He wondered if other men had been wrong before him, their advances shunned with a cold hand. Her hand was not cold toward him, though. Her body was warm beneath him, warm and thrumming with an energy that seeped from every pore. Still, though, he had to be sure she was ready._

_ "We can stop," he told her._

_ "No," she said resolutely, shaking her chestnut curls. "I want this. I want you." He lowered his head to hers and gave her a long kiss. She pulled away after a moment and nerves colored her words as she murmured, "Just…be gentle. Please."_

_ All at once he saw what he was about to do-what they were about to do-and felt tenderness grip at his heart. She looked up at him, her eyes surprisingly trusting, and he swore to himself then that he would not hurt her. "Put your arms around my back." She followed his instruction as he positioned himself. "You ready?"_

Those few moments would forever be ones that he would replay time and time again. She shifted beside him and he looked down to see her eyebrows furrow before her eyes slowly opened. She looked at him without really seeing, sleep cleared from her eyes with several bats of her eyelashes. He knew the moment that she saw him because her lips curved into a grin and she mumbled, "Hello."

"Good morning, Blair."

She sat up, the blanket dropping to her waist. She was still wearing her lacy black bra and his eyes lingered on it for a second before he asked, "How are you?"

"Fine," she answered. Her cheeks burned when she thought of the night before. She had become a woman and at his hand. She looked away from him and then she felt his warm hand on her cheek. His voice was like silk as he murmured, "Don't do that." His lips touched hers and she asked, "Do what?"

"Don't look embarrassed. I never want you to look embarrassed."

"I know I come off differently," she began softly.

"You come off wonderfully," he told her with a soft grin. "I should know."

She hesitated for a moment and then asked, "Was I any good?"

Chuck thought of the night before and felt himself harden. He took her hand and pressed it gently against him. "That is just at the thought, Blair."

She blushed and pulled her hand from him. She placed it on his chest and kissed him. "Well, I intend on getting much more practice."

"Oh, so does this mean that Nathaniel is finished?"

She pulled away from him, pulling the covers up over her chest. He looked at her in confusion as she hissed, "How could you think I would do what I did last night and still be with him?"

"Well, are you?" Chuck asked pointedly. "When you left the party you still were."

He had a point and Blair could not argue that. "I am ending things today," she said quietly. "I should get dressed."

"He won't take it well," Chuck said from the bed, watching her change into her dress. "You were the only thing he had over me."

"Is that really all I am to you men?" she asked lightly. "A trophy to be passed from one man to another?"

He climbed from the bed and pulled on his shorts. Striding over he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. His lips covered hers and he murmured against them, "You are much more than that, Blair."

His hands travelled down to her bottom and he explored what he now fondly thought of as _his_ as she made a soft noise in the back of her throat. Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck and he closed his eyes as her lips found the skin just below his jawline. She nipped at his skin gently and murmured, "We need to leave this room eventually."

"Hush."

"You own a hotel, you know."

"Doesn't matter," he mumbled, his hands now travelling beneath the skirt of her dress. He brushed between her thighs and asked, "Don't you agree, darling?"

She shut her eyes closed and said, "I suppose it can wait a few more moments."

GG-GG-GG-GG-GG

Blair walked beside Chuck as they strode into the casino. Her ears were still thrumming from what they had done in her bedroom and she felt a sudden urge to grab his hand. She kept her hands firmly at her side, though, for the rest of the world still thought of her as Nate's girl and she intended on letting Nate know that was no longer true herself. She didn't want him hearing from some gossip monger like Serena. Besides, she needed to pace herself with Chuck. They had done their fair share of intimacy in her bedroom and could barely keep their hands off each other in the elevator ride down. She knew it was more fun when there was some anticipation. She glanced at Chuck and grinned when she saw his hands shoved in his pockets.

"You alright, Chuck darling?"

"Fine," he told her. "Perfectly fine."

"Good, now do you know where Nate is?" she asked lightly. "I believe there is something I need to discuss with him."

"I-" he stopped abruptly, coming to a halt beside a line of high paying slot machines. Blair looked at him oddly and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"Go back to your room."

"What? Chuck-"

"Come on, I'll take you."

He took her arm and began leading her to the elevator but Blair was having none of it. She had spent enough years aimlessly following others and she wrenched her arm from his grasp as she asked, "Would you mind telling me what is going on?"

"Get in the elevator first," he told her. "It may not be safe to talk here."

"It may not be safe? Chuck.." she trailed off when she got a good look at his face. He seemed legitimately worried. He was looking at her but she noticed his gaze drift every few moments, scanning the people around them. Something was wrong for Chuck to be this worried and it made her stomach turn into knots. She followed him silently to the elevator. The doors slid shut and she said "Tell me what is going on."

"Do you know who Sal Gimli is?"

She nodded, remembering her father having something to do with him. It was some business deal that her father had looked into. He had been on the other side of an investigation, lending to the verdict that sent Gimli to jail.

"Sal does not let things go easily," Chuck said. "And he likes revenge."

"Well, my father is in New York," she told him. "There's little that he can do here."

"You are here," Chuck said darkly, rubbing the back of his neck. "And he will use you against your father."

She had felt her nerves mounting as Chuck spoke and felt it release at his last few words. She sighed and told him, "Chuck, you had me actually worried for a moment."

"You should be worried."

"Why? It's not like I'm going to get involved with him."

"Blair, Sal is extremely dangerous. He will use you in any way he can to get revenge against your father. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Chuck-"

The door opened and he gestured for her to get out first. He walked close to her on the way to the bedroom and slipped a key from his pocket to open the door. She looked at him with a small grin and asked, "You've had a key all this time?"

He was in no mood for jokes and nodded curtly as he made his way into the room, closing the door behind him. He hesitated and then put on the deadlock.

"I'll get you out of here."

"Chuck, don't be ridiculous."

"You aren't safe here, not as long as Sal is around. I'll send you somewhere. I have friends in California."

"Chuck-"

"Or New York. That may be best. I-"

"I am not going back to New York," she said sharply. "Look, I came all this way. I ran away from home, Chuck. I can't just go back."

"Your father would welcome you with open arms," Chuck said. "You know he's sent people here. They know where you are."

She swallowed uncomfortably. She had noticed the men lurking but had assumed they were from Chuck. "I'm still not going."

"Blair, please don't argue with me."

She looked at him defiantly and retorted, "Don't tell me I have to leave just because some silly mobster is here. I'm not afraid of you guys you know."

"Sal is different than Nate and I," he said, shaking his head. "He is vengeful and will take any measures to get what he wants."

"And you don't?"

Chuck frowned and stepped closer to her as he said, "Sal will do anything to get revenge on your father, Blair. And you are the perfect weapon to use against him."

"I'm not going anywhere," she told him firmly. "Nothing will happen to me. You're here."

"I can't be everywhere, though."

"Look, Chuck, you can worry and rail but I am staying right here." He was not convinced and she moved closer, laying a hand on his arm. "If we face this together it will be fine."

"You don't know that. You don't know him, Blair."

"I don't care. I'm staying. And I take full responsibility for whatever happens to me because of that."

He met her gaze and she could see that every part of him wanted her to change her mind. She wouldn't, though. This was where she belonged. And after last night, she was resolute. Her own gaze revealed that there would be no changing her mind and he sighed before pulling her into his arms. He kissed her forehead and murmured, "If anything happens to you-"

"Nothing will," she told him. "But I'll be careful."

"I don't want you talking to him. And you're going to have to listen to me here. I mean it, Blair. I know this guy better than you and-"

"I know," she told him. "And soon he will be gone. He can't stay here forever."

Chuck nodded absentmindedly and kissed her forehead again. She was wrong, completely wrong. He could stay forever. He could stay until he got exactly what he wanted and Chuck feared that that was exactly what would happen. He had to take ever precaution available. He touched her cheek gently with his finger tips and told her, "I need you do to something and you're not gonna like it. Hell, I don't even like it."

Her eyes darkened as she said, "You want me to stay with Nate."

Once again, it surprised him just how in tune she was with him. He nodded, his stomach churning at his decision. "He will be another set of eyes looking after you. I don't know how things would be if we told him about us and I need him if we are going to really face-off with this guy."

"Okay," she said softly, knowing this was a battle she could not win. At least he was letting her stay. The thought of weeks, months without seeing him made her tremble. "I don't like it, though."

He chuckled darkly. "Neither do I, Blair. It took me this long to get you and now I have to give you back."

She look up at him and said fiercely, "I'm yours, Chuck. Don't ever question that."

He lowered her head to hers and kissed her strongly. She wrapped her arms around him and opened her mouth to taste him. She hated what she had to do. She hated that she couldn't do this with him in front of the entire world. She wanted to. She wanted everyone to know because since the moment he caught her attention in that New York café she had been irrevocably in love with him. She would never admit it, though. And she would never tell him.

He could feel it, though, by the way her lips moved against his. The way her body pressed to his. He wondered if she could tell he felt the same.

A knock on the door sent a wave of disappointment through them both and it shone in their eyes as they separated. She kissed his cheek quickly and whispered, "Come here tonight."

He nodded and then he wiped at his mouth to remove any of her lipstick as she went over to the door. When she opened it Nate was on the other side. He smiled at her but looked suspiciously back at Chuck.

"Blair," he said simply, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She kept her eyes on anything but him as his lips brushed her cheek. She gave him a tight smile and then let him into the room.

"I hope Chuck hasn't taken you for lunch yet," Nate said.

"No," she answered. "I was waiting for you."

"Perfect, I have reservations at this wonderful place down the street. Chuck, you don't mind if we go this one alone, do you?" The question had a clear answer and Chuck followed the script as he said, "Of course not. You two have fun. Blair, remember we have a meeting with Santori later today."

"Yes, I remember."

They exchanged one final look before Blair turned her attention to Nate and said, "Alright darling, let's go."

Chuck watched them leave with a heavy heart.

**A/N: This has pretty much set up the plotline for the back part of this story. Don't worry, although Nate and Blair are technically still together I do not intend on really writing any Nair scenes. There will still be plenty of Chair. Please leave your thoughts. I would love to know your thoughts on the new direction this has taken.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: New chapter! This furthers the plot and will drive us all toward the end. Yes, this is on its way to its conclusion. Unforunately, all things must come to an end. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this!**

Further Complications

Sal Gimili was not a particularly large man. He just reached 5'6'' and had a small gut that always pressed unattractively against his tailored suits. He had a beady look to him, always, and had the irritating twitch of drumming his fingers against the side of his leg. It was almost as if he was hearing some song in his head and was drumming out the beat. He was doing this when Chuck finally approached him. It had been a few days since Chuck had first saw Sal in his casino. He had decided not to act hastily, first seeing what Sal would do. It turned out that for those few days Sal only drank, ate, and gambled. Still, though, he had his beady look and Chuck felt his jaw clench when he politely introduced himself.

"Bass," Sal said in way of greeting. He took Chuck's outstretched hand and shook it heartily. "I'd heard you'd taken over here. Beautiful place."

"Thank you."

"Beautiful women, too." Chuck felt his blood pressure spike. "I heard you have the Waldorf daughter here. Is that correct?"

Chuck considered lying but then said, "Yes, she is staying here."

Sal nodded, absentmindedly patting his round belly. "Now, _that_ is a fine looking broad. Do you see her much?"

"Here and there," Chuck told him. "She is seeing one of my colleagues."

Sal's eyebrows rose in surprise and he murmured, "Lucky man, lucky man. Well, I still wouldn't mind meeting her. She ran away from her father. I heard she ran out on some engagement. That one's a spitfire."

Chuck did not like the perverse interest that Sal was displaying for a woman he was increasingly thinking of as his. He nodded curtly after Sal's dreamy rant and said, "Well, if there is anything I can do for you, please let me know. We would be more than happy to accommodate you here."

Sal's eyes glittered. "Think you can send me that Waldorf girl?"

Chuck knew it was a joke but his voice could cut steel as he answered, "No, that is not possible. Enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Gimli."

Chuck walked away, so angry that he wanted to drive his fist into a penny slot.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

It was yet another boring day of Nate. It was another day of having to pretend that she was entranced by him. Another day of hanging on his every word in order to not have him suspect anything. It was torture. Sure, she had a natural camaraderie with the man but anything else simply out of the question. The truth was, she had fallen in love with someone so strong, so dynamic that everyone else paled in comparison. They sat in his hotel room, her feet propped on his lap as he massaged them.

Massages were meant to be sensual. And she assumed this one was, too, as he kept making some sort of eyes at her over he stretched-out legs but she kept playing innocent. She was not in a particularly sensual mood. She had not seen Chuck in two days. Their business lunches were not stripped to the bare minimum.

"I really don't want Gimli connecting you to me," he had said.

He hadn't come to her room the night before, either. It seemed Chuck had finally spoken to Gimli and he had questioned Chuck's involvement with her. This had prompted Chuck to become paranoid about them being together. She thought he was overreacting and had told him so. Chuck could not be moved, though. He was a stubborn man and she had learned over the past few days that when her safety was involved (or if he thought it was) he became even more so.

"You look beautiful," Nate told her, reaching for her hand and holding it gently. He rubbed her palm with the tip of his palm. "Do you know how beautiful you are, Blair? You take my breath away."

For someone who was accustomed to a man's attention she felt acutely uncomfortable under his. She gave him a somewhat tight smile and said, "Thank you."

"I really care about you Blair," he told her. She sensed something coming, something so frightening that she wanted to jump from the seat and run as far from Nate as she could. That was not a real option, though. With her feet on his lap and her shoes over by the bed there was no way for her to escape so she could do little but avert her eyes as he said, "In fact, Blair, I think I may be in love with you."

She didn't answer and she felt his hand slip from hers. "I'll wait," he finally said. 'I'll wait because I know one day you will say it back."

"Perhaps one day I will," she said, lying through her teeth. "But I can't say something that I do not honestly feel. Not yet, at least."

He took her hand again and in the silence, she prayed for Chuck to burst through the door, knowing full well it would not happen.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Chuck made himself stay away. Did he want to? Hell no. He wanted to run to her room and taste her on his lips. She was like a drug to him and he was the happy, albeit helpless, addict. She was love. She was life. She was what got him up at the morning and it what he thought of when he finally fell asleep at night. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted another woman. He cared about her more than he had cared about another woman.

Sitting in his hotel room, thinking over Sal Gimli's words, he felt an odd sense of foreboding. He thought of his Blair's alabaster skin and Gimli's hand on it. Immediately his face flushed with anger and it took him several minutes to calm down. If just the thought sent him into near hysterics, he did not want to imagine what would happen if he actually saw it. His staying away was correct. By letting her be completely claimed by Nate there was a clear line in front of Gimli. If Chuck showed or hinted at any involvement Gimli would think there was room for play. Again, he told himself he was doing the right thing.

Still, though, he missed her.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

She missed him.

She missed his calming presence, the way she felt as if nothing could hurt her as long as he was near. She missed the smell of his skin and the taste of his mouth. It had been too long since she had seen him, too long since she had held him against her and felt him move inside her.

God, she missed him.

She had started praying recently. She never found herself particularly religious but when she found Chuck, she had found her religion. She worshipped the ground he walked on and prayed for his return. She prayed for the return of his mouth, his hands. The return of everything that she had enjoyed for those brief moments and taken entirely for granted.

She sat heavily on her bed and buried her face in her hands. She had always been a strong woman and now a few days away from Chuck and she was reduced to a sniveling prissy. She couldn't help it, though. She was dogged by the memories and the fact that they would remain just that. Memories.

The door opened and she stopped breathing when she saw Chuck walk in. It seemed her love had heard her prayers and came to answer every one of them. He closed the door behind him and clicked the lock shut.

She didn't move an inch until he was in front of her, his hands taking hers and pulling her up to her feet. He kept her hands held in his own and murmured, "I just had to see you."

She nodded.

"It's been killing me staying away."

In a moment he had pulled her into his arms and he kissed every bit of her face until his mouth covered hers. His fingers deftly untied her robe and it fell into a heap beside her feet. She edged back toward the bed and fell back when she felt the back of her knees hit the bed. He climbed on top of her, his hand making a hot trail up her thigh. Her nightgown dipped down in the front and his mouth latched on to her right breast. She closed her eyes shut and did not open them again. She was too afraid that it would all end up to be a dream.

"Look at me," he murmured into her ear, coaxing her from her own fears. She held onto him, willing herself to believe him, to trust him. When she finally did open her eyes the feeling she saw reflected in her eyes made her entire body thrum. She gently laid her hands on the back of his neck and told him, "I've never felt this way about anyone before, Chuck. Never."

He kissed her softly and mumbled against her lips, "Blair, if you only knew. If you only knew how much you mean to me."

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

She laid in his arms, listening to his heart beat beneath her. She loved that sound. It was like a clock ticking, confirming that yes this was reality and the he really was beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist with his thumb brushing against her side. She kissed his chest and murmured, "I'm glad you're here."

"So am I." He kissed the side of her head. "It's been killing me seeing you with him. All I want to do is touch you and show everyone that you are mine."

"I am no one's," she retorted lightly, knowing full-well that she was wrong. "And it's been no easier for me."

"Blair-"

"He said he loved me." Chuck was silent and she looked up to make sure he had heard her. "He loves me, Chuck. And I have to deal with that."

"What did you say back?"

She pushed away from him, irritated by the slight accusation in his voice. "What? Do you think that I said it back?"

"Of course not," he said, pulling her back toward him. She still felt her irritation, though, and refused to rest her head on his chest again as she reminded him, "This was your idea, Chuck. I didn't want to do this."

"I know."

"I wanted to be with you."

His fingers trace the curve of her cheek. "And I want to be with you. But right now your safety is what is important." His eyes darkened. "Gimli has you in his sights. I need to keep you safe."

She sighed and rested her head back on his chest. Once again she felt her nerves calm at the steady sound of his heartbeat. "This will all be over soon," he promised. "And then we can be together."

Blair nodded her head, a fear edging further into her mind that perhaps it would not be all over soon. She didn't want to think about that. She wanted to think of a time when her days and nights would be all his. Feeling the tension settle low in her belly she craned her neck to catch his lips with her own. She settled on top of him and reached down as she murmured, "I want to have you once more before you have to go."

Staying true to character, Chuck denied her nothing.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Blair neglected showering that morning and felt a perverse thrill that he was still on her. His marks covered her inner thighs and if she held her skin close to her nose she swore she could smell him. This set her in a good mood and she felt something close to happiness as she walked through the hotel. She was thinking briefly of what she would have for lunch when she saw something so jarring that she stopped walking completely and stood as still as a mannequin, her mouth dropped into an inaudible gasp. Standing at the entrance of the hotel, his face slick with sweat, was Harold Waldorf.

**A/N: Please leave feedback. And I will send you Chuck. Wearing only a fedora ;-)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: New chapter! This one really brings on the drama, heading it all for what I hope will be a satisfying conclusion!**

A Fist For A Fist

Blair felt as if time stopped when she saw her father. It was like a nightmare seeing the light of day and she struggled to accept the reality as she felt time ticking away. She had to reach her father and she had to make him leave. Harold saw her first and as he began to approach she did the same and they met half-way.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I'm here to take you home."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, then you can just leave. I am not going home."

"Enough of this nonsense," Harold snapped. Blair's eyes flashed with something that was frighteningly akin to contempt and he consciously softened his tone. "We miss you at home, sweetheart."

"Need someone to direct?" Blair asked unkindly. "I'm not coming home. I have forged a life here."

"You have a life at home."

"No," Blair said sternly. "That was your life, Dad. It was never mine. Now please, leave."

"Not until you come home with me."

Blair saw Sal Gimli approaching over her father's shoulder and she felt a cold fear seep into her bones and she hastily grabbed her father's arm and dragged him from the casino.

"Take me to lunch," she said quickly. "And we can discuss my going home."

He can see that this is a ruse and snipes, "What has gotten into you, Blair?"

Blair did not answer, looking over her shoulder nervously. She let out a shaky breath when she saw that Gimli was not following. She wiped at her brow while Harold looked at her critically. "Blair, you aren't in any sort of trouble now, are you?"

She debated silently whether or not she should tell him what was happening. Harold was a smart man, after all. He would understand the danger. He was not a naive man (except in the fact that he thought she would easiliy return with him) and she knew he would accept the gravity of the situation. After a moment her mind was made and she asked, "Do you remember a man by the name of Sal Gimli?"

Harold nodded. "Yeah, I put that bastard through the ringer if I remember correctly."

"He is here," Blair said, effectively erasing the smug smile from her father's lips. "He has already set his sights on me, to use as a weapon against you. Now with you here, I am very concerned for your safety."

"Blair-"

"You need to go home."

"This is all the more reason for you to come home!" Blair saw the error in her telling Harold anything as he said, "You are in danger, Blair."

"I will be fine. I have people protecting me." She thought of Chuck and felt the assuredness that he would never let anything happen to her. She knew Chuck would put himself in danger before he let Gimli as much as touch her.

"Who? That scallywag Bass?"

She turned her nose up and said, "Don't you say a word against him."

Harold narrowed his eyes. "He hasn't compromised you, has he?"

"No, he has not. But he has taken care of me here. He has shown me more kindness than all the people in New York combined."

"Blair, I am not leaving here without you. This is not a discussion here. The bottom line is I either leave with you or stay until you finally come to your sense."

Staring defiantly up at her father she saw where she got her stubbornness.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

"He is unbelievable!" Blair huffed, pacing back and forth in Chuck's room. He was outstretched on his bed, his arms folded behind his head.

"You'll wear him down."

She stopped pacing and faced him. "I'm worried though, Chuck. Gimli has a vendetta against him and the longer my father stays here the deeper in danger he becomes. The man may irritate me but he is my father, after all."

Chuck sat up. "I have my men trailing him, Blair. Nothing will happen to him."

"If something did…" She sank into the nearby chair, burying her face in her hands. Chuck went to her side and kneeled beside her. He took her hands in his and said, "Your father is safe. My men are trailing both him and Gimli. If there was even a hint of a plan that my men picked up on we would take care of it."

She exhaled softly, remind herself to inhale, and then exhale again. She believed Chuck. She believed in what he said, in what he promised. But she also remembered what she had been told about Gimli. He was clever and he was ruthless. She knew that he would get around Chuck's goons and she could tell by the slight cloud that passed Chuck's face now and then that he knew it, too.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Chuck walked from his room, the knowledge of Blair underneath the silk sheets of his bed making him smile slightly. He thought of why he had left and it turned his mouth downward. He would have a little talk with Gimli. He did not want to stronghold anyone. He had generally been a man of words but he could use force when necessary and he was willing to do anything and everything necessary to get Gimli out of his hotel. He caught sight of the man right as he entered the casino. He was seated at a craps table with a large pile of chips near his hand. As he went to approach he was stopped by Gene Santori. The man's usual boisterous face was marked with concern and he said, "Bass, we need to talk."

Chuck glanced at Gimli and reasoned that he had a few moments to spare. The man looked like he was quite content at the table. "Is everything all right?"

"I could ask you the same thing. First I hear that Sal Gimli is here. Next thing I know that son of a bitch Harold Waldorf walks in. You better be careful, buddy. I don't want any scandals at my casinos."

"There won't be," Chuck assured him. "Everything is under control."

"I don't mind cleaning some blood off my hands," he said. "We all have. But I'd rather not have any on my casino floor."

Chuck nodded. "I have it under control."

"Good, well, I will be checking up."

Chuck nodded again and then proceeded on his way to Gimli. He stood next to him and told the dealer, "Mr. Gimli would like to buy out."

Gimli looked up with a sardonic grin. "Cutting my fun short, huh?"

"Pick up your chips. We need to talk." Chuck waited for him to gather his winnings and then led him to a back room. He shut the door behind them and locked it for further security.

"What is all this about?" Gimli asked. "Can't a man gamble in peace at this joint?"

"I do not turn away people at my establishment," Chuck said. "And I am in no way asking you to leave. But if you do so much as glance toward Blair Waldorf I will have to taken out in a body bag."

Gimli arched an eyebrow. "If I didn't know better I would think you two were involved. Last I saw, though, she was hanging all over Archibald."

"Stay away from her. And stay away from her father."

"I saw that Harold Waldorf was here," Gimli said. "I can't even tell you how many times I had thought of just taking care of old business right here. You know that I suffered quite a loss due to him."

"I will not have you making a spectacle out of my casino," Chuck said harshly. "You either behave according to my rules or you leave."

Gimli did not speak. He only smiled, leaning on the table behind him and crossing his arms over his chest. "You made a grave mistake, Bass. I sense that you have a stake in this too, now. You care what happens to Blair, clearly, and for some odd reason you seem invested in Harold Waldorf's well being as well. This either means you are just a good natured soul or you are sleeping with the daughter."

"How dare you-"

"Grave mistake, my friend. Now this has become more than just revenge." Gimli's smile tightened into something resembling a snarl as he said, "It's a game. And you know how much I love a game."

Chuck's fist connected with Gimli's jaw so quickly that the smaller man actually yelped in surprise. He stumbled to the side from the force and his hand grabbed at his mangled face.

"You and your men are to leave immediately," Chuck hissed. He left the door open when he left for Gimli to make his own way out. He passed one of him men as he stormed out and said, "Make sure that trash leaves."

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Chuck felt his nerves slip as he strode back out into the casino. Scaring Gimli would do little to help his problems. He knew GImli was not easily intimidated and that his fist would only scratch the surface of that man's nerves. He ran into Nate as he passed a row of slot machines and his former friend said, "You look like hell."

"I just dealt with Gimli," Chuck said, shaking out his hand. "I think my fist took more damage than his face."

"I was so worried about Blair. I can only be with her so often and I was constantly riddled with fears that something would befall her. Blair is a strong woman but-"

"Just stop already," Chuck drawled, his nerves worn so thin that he could not sensor himself anymore. "Blair doesn't need you. She has me."

Nate snorted. "With all the women you entertain I am surprised you even remember which one she is."

Chuck looked at him levelly. "There is only one woman I entertain, Nathaniel."

The insinuation was clear and Nate's eyes darkened. "She detests you."

"She's in my bed."

Nate went to protest but Chuck could tell that deep down he knew it was true. A dejected look passed over his features before Chuck felt what Gimli must have moments earlier. Nate's fist connected solidly with Chuck's jaw and he heard a distinct pop.

"If she demeans herself anyone to sleep with the likes of you then you can have her."

Nate walked away, leaving Chuck with blood dripping down his face.

**A/N: So, next chapter is the one that will tie up all of these loose ends. It is the last chapter (sadly) but I know the outcome and I think most of you will like it. If you like this-please review! There is not much time left to show your support for this story..**

**Also- Any GLEEKS over here? I posted a couple Glee (Rachel/Jesse) fics and wanted to let any of you guys out there know about them. I know I have a ton of stories so little ones like that can get lost in the jumble. If you are a GLEEK make sure to check them out!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Last chapter! A LOT happens here. I hope you all enjoy this last chapter of Royal Flush.**

The Return

Blair stretched out in his bed, her arms brushing against the headboard. She closed her eyes, trying to recapture the safety that she had felt only minutes earlier. His arms seemed to chase away all of her worries and fears and when she was held she nearly forgot that her father was in Las Vegas. She forgot the danger he was in and that she would be leaving with him for New York in only twenty four hours. She laid on her side, trying to imagine how Chuck would react when he heard the news. He probably already knew. She had no doubt that her actions now read of desperation. Every word, every touch was nearly the last. The door opened and she lifted her head to give him a small grin. The cover was resting lasciviously on her waist but her wanton appearance was not prepared for the blood now staining his clothes and she quickly pulled the cover over her chest as she demanded, "What happened to you?"

"I was punched," Chuck explained calmly, heading straight to the bathroom. From the open doorway he called out, "I guess I should also tell you that he knows."

"Who?"

Chuck emerged from the bathroom slightly cleaner and told her, "Nate."

She gasped. "He did this to you?" He nodded his head and although she tried to remain stoically outraged a giggle fell from her mouth and she said, "I didn't know he had it in him."

"Neither did I," Chuck agreed. He felt his swollen jaw and said, "He had a pretty good hook, too."

She sat up, still holding the blanket to her body with one arm and used the other to beckon him to bed. He came over after a moment's hesitation and found relief in her warm body. His hands travelled down beneath the cover and she wound her arms around his waist, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. He was silent, thinking of how it already felt like it was the last time that he would touch her. She was trying her best to act normal but he could feel her slipping away. Quietly he said, "You're leaving, aren't you?"

She nodded her head against his chest.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

His mouth found hers and she pulled him closer, wanting to really taste him. His arms wound around her and although her hair brushing against his black eye made his head throb he held her close, running his hands up and down her back. Against her lips he murmured over and over, "I love you, Blair. I love you."

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Nate was turning into Chuck Bass. He sat at the bar, taking down yet another shot while reveling in the way the room spun. His head throbbed and his chest hurt yet he still motioned for the next shot. The bartender eyed him warily but everyone in this joint knew who he was. The shot was given with a look but without a single word. He kicked it back and then rested his head heavily in his palm.

Damn Blair Waldorf.

And damn him for missing something he never actually had.

Damn everything.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

"I never want to leave this bed," Blair murmured, glancing up at Chuck whose eye had turned an unpleasant purple. "I'm sorry he did that to you."

"I barely feel it," Chuck quipped. "And I agree. I never want to leave this bed, either."

She smiled, kissing his lips. She tucked her head under his chin, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His chest rumbled as he asked, "What will you do when you return to New York."

"I don't know."

"Marry that guy you ran from?" he joked.

"Never," Blair scoffed. "Besides, a gangster has my heart."

"Do I?"

She wrapped her arms tighter around her. "Of course you do."

"I wish you wouldn't leave."

She propped herself up to look straight at him. "You know that I have to. I have no choice, Chuck."

"I could keep your father safe."

She smirked. "Do you really want my father hanging on us every day?"

Soberly he replied, "If it meant I had you, yes."

She sighed, resting her head on his chest again. "I'm going back to New York, Chuck. But I'll always be yours."

"Say it," he breathed out. "Say you love me."

She kissed his chest, draping herself over him as she dropped a hand down and gently stroked him. "I love you."

He whispered it back as she took him in, moving agonizingly slowly, her body like a mirage above him. He moved his hands down her back and cupped her bottom, pulling her down harder on him. She kissed him, her lips hot like fire on his. He sat up, flipping her back into the mattress as he set the pace. Her eyes were closed shut, her mouth screwed into a tight line. "Open your eyes."

Her eyes slowly opened and he relished watching those eyes droop in pleasure as drifted off the edge. He followed her, covering her mouth messily with his own. He went to move off of her but she pulled him down. He was afraid that he was crushing her but when he went to move again her grip on him tightened and she mumbled, "Not yet."

"How am I going to get along without you?" he murmured against her shoulder. It scared him that he honestly did not know the answer.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

It was the end.

He watched her dress in the morning, his eyes following her movements as she pulled on her stockings. He was endlessly fascinated by her morning routine-the bath time, the exercises for her neck that always made him snicker.

"This is going to keep me from getting a chicken neck," she told him when he laughed. "I'm going back on the market. Have to look my best, you know."

"No one will measure up to me," he said. She went over to him on the edge of the bed and stepped between his legs. She leaned down and brushed her lips against his. "No, Chuck, no one ever will."

Once she was finished getting ready they went downstairs to the casino. Harold was playing a slot machine and Chuck spied the towncar at the front of the hotel, its trunk already packed. Harold saw his daughter first and smiled warmly at her. The smile lost all friendliness when he discovered Chuck beside her.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Harold asked.

"Yes." She looked to Chuck and asked, "Walk us out?"

"Of course."

Together, the three of them made a rather odd group. The politician, the mobster, and the daughter that was torn between them.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Nate watched from the sidelines as they made their way out of the hotel. Blair looked beautiful as always and he detested himself for still having a reaction to her beauty. She had taken his heart and thrown it into the street to be trampled by cabs and heedless pedestrians. She had led him on while spending nights with Chuck. He wanted to hate her yet when he saw the man approaching, his demeanor too cold and his face too impassive, he could not stop himself from rushing forward.

He stepped between the mystery man and Harold Waldorf just as a loud shot rang in the air. Warmth spread in his belly and when he looked down his white shirt was stained red. He touched the wetness, partially aware of the mysterious man being tackled by Chuck's bodyguards. Someone was yelling. It wasn't until he looked up and found Blair's tearstained face that he realized he had dropped to his knees. She grabbed at his arm, pulling him up as she cried for someone to call 9-1-1. He dropped from his knees to the ground and she followed him, holding his body against hers as she sobbed, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

When he looked up at her angelic face with the lips he had loved, the eyes he had adored, he saw that he had already long forgiven her.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Chuck was not a man who knew regret. Watching who had been his best friend for years bleed to death outside of his own hotel, Chuck was introduced to regret and its morose partner guilt. He knew the moment that Nate had passed. Moments before, his eyes had slid to Chuck and he breathed out, "Fucking prick…"

And just like that Nate Archibald had left this earth and Chuck was left with the hard-to-swallow knowledge that Nate's last words had been a slur of expletives intended for him. At that moment he vowed he would not let the dissolution of that friendship be for naught. He would follow Blair wherever she went, whether Harold Waldorf liked it or not.

"I killed him," Blair sobbed into his shoulder, standing with him at the airport. Harold had already boarded the plane but he waited at the loading deck of the plane for his daughter. He was taking on chances.

"You did no such thing," Chuck said, taking a hold of her chin. "You hear me?"

"But if I hadn't led him on. If I hadn't used him and…"

"We both made mistakes," he said, thinking that he had much more to atone for than she knew. He held her close and pressed a kiss onto her forehead. "But I love you."

"Look what our love did," she murmured.

"And it is how we will move past it," he said resolutely. "It is how we will heal."

She looked up at him. "Is that what you really believe?"

"I have to." He sighed. "Have a safe trip to New York."

"When will I see you again? This can't be it." Her voice held all the panic her eyes showed. "It's not, is it?"

"Of course not." He pressed another kiss to her forehead. "I'll be seeing you."

She pulled away and walked back to the plane. She walked past her father, who let her past before casting one more distrustful glance toward Chuck. The airplane's hangar closed shut and Chuck watched the most important part of his life depart for the opposite side of the country. Already he began work on how to return to her.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

Even in New York, the papers ran front page stories of Sal Gimli's demise. His body was found in a dumpster with several bullets in his head. The article laid suspicion on another mob family that Gimli had swindled. Only Blair knew the truth. Chuck had killed him. She was sure of it.

In the weeks following her return to New York, she waited for him. Every knock, every call, she imagined it would be him. Her heart flipped and she was filled with false hope. She was like a child waiting for a departed parent to return. The hope and the dream always were stronger than the harsh reality. As time went on, the cold facts were hard to deny.

It was two months now and Chuck had not returned. Part of her whispered, _you knew he never would_.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

When he saw her he thought to himself that she was as pretty as a picture. Seated at the same table she was at when he first saw her, she was reading a newspaper, her hair draped over one shoulder to reveal the milky whiteness of her neck. He sat near the back and watched her, waiting to gain the confidence to actually go to her. It had been three months. And despite her overtures of love, he had no way of knowing that she had not moved on. He almost would have preferred seeing a man join her at that table then having to hear it from her with guilt staining her eyes. He watched her reach for her coffee cup and recognized a bracelet he had given her hanging on her wrist. He decided then that he would speak to her.

He rose from his seat and slowly made his way over. All the while he was sure that another man would swoop in and take his seat seconds before he was able to claim it. That didn't happen, though. He made it there without interruption at stood at its side as he asked, "Is this seat taken?"

She didn't look up for a moment, seemingly frozen in place. Finally her eyes swept up to meet his and he saw tears shining in them as she said, "No."

He sat down and he noticed that her hands were trembling. Gingerly he reached forward and felt his body relax as she let him take her hands. He brought them to his lips and kissed them tenderly.

"Chuck," she murmured, tears dripping down her cheeks. "I can't believe it's really you."

"I'm sorry that it took me so long," he said. "I had some business that I had to finalize in Las Vegas."

Quietly she asked, "Gimli?"

He nodded. "The bastard killed probably my only true friend."

She squeezed his hands.

"And then I had to talk with Santori and tell him that I wanted out of the hotel. He didn't take it well at first but eventually he came around." He smiled slightly. "When I told him I was doing it all for you he softened his stance. He thought very highly of you."

"What does this all mean, then?"

Chuck took a deep breath. "Well, I am going to give being straight a crack."

"You are?"

He nodded. "Doubt that will be enough to win over your father but it's a start."

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. "I don't care what my father thinks."

"You don't?"

She smiled softy, touching his face. "Thank you for coming back to me."

**A/N: Gah, I am feeling all nostalgic. This story has a very special place in my heart and I thank each and everyone one of you who has been along for the ride. Whether you reviewed or not, I really do hope that you enjoyed this story as much as I have. Thank you for sticking with it and hopefully when the season starts it will spark some more Chair ideas for me!**

**P.S. If you enjoy THE VAMPIRE DIARIES check out my Damon/Elena stories for it. I have two multi-chapter ones "Come To The Dark Side" and "Bad Things" that I would love to hear your thoughts on. Gossip Girl readers are the best, clearly, so I would love for some of you to make your way over to that fandom, as well :D**


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